The handover went smoothly this time, all the criminals were handed over and entered the prison gates, Jimmy and the prison guards drove back.
The second semester courses at the community college were already available, and Jimmy still chose about a third of the courses. With last year's learning experience, he was more confident now. His spiritual power had greatly improved; Jimmy's memory was getting better and better. If it weren't for the course scheduling restraints, he even felt an urge to get all the remaining credits within half a year.
On his way, he stopped by the community college to collect the study materials, and Jimmy, as usual, placed all these materials at the police station, where he would look over them in his spare time. As for his home, it was a place for rest. Studying was better left at the police station, considering he often had quite a bit of downtime.
The technique of manually loading a revolver taught by Roland had become basically proficient after several months of practice. Although he couldn't reach Roland's speed, Jimmy was very satisfied with loading six rounds in 2-3 seconds, which was less than a second slower than when he used a speed loader, so the difference wasn't significant.
Now when Jimmy went out on patrol, he only carried one speed loader for backup; the rest was just some bullets in a small bag hung on his duty belt. Maybe it was because he mostly ran into easy targets lately, but Jimmy hadn't had the chance to use his reloading skills in actual combat. Not to mention reloading— he hardly even used a full cylinder.
Noah was still resting at home and hadn't returned to work in the Northwest Division. Jimmy agreed to Cage's request and went to help patrol in the Northwest Division. For Jimmy, this was also an opportunity; he hadn't issued a ticket in so long that his hands were itching to do so, not knowing which unlucky person would run into him today.
The Northwest Division used to be Jimmy's patrol area, so he was very familiar with it. When he arrived at the old stakeout intersection, Jimmy rolled down his window, watching the cars coming and going on the road.
It seemed that a police officer's style has a significant impact on the local area. When Jimmy was here, if nothing else, the people around knew there was a cop who liked to issue tickets, and they would drive very carefully. Jimmy had only been gone for three to four months, and these drivers had returned to their careless driving habits.
In just a short while, Jimmy spotted several potential tickets that were borderline cases. It reminded him of the days when he took over Cage's patrol duties while Cage was injured and resting. Back then, Cage's patrol area seemed just like this; now that Jimmy was gone, and Cage had come to the Northwest Division, the area had taken on Cage's style of duty.
Jimmy had no intention of hassling these drivers. He focused only on those vehicles with serious violations like severe speeding or running red lights, ignoring the minor ones. After all, Cage would certainly have done the same.
However, it might have been that Jimmy's luck had run out; he hadn't issued a single ticket when the call came from the dispatch center, standard procedure, to assist the ASP in intercepting a Texas-registered pickup.
Jimmy could only sigh, starting his patrol car and heading for the freeway on-ramp. He had assisted in this kind of operation many times; the ASP highway patrol was tough, and there hardly was anything for Jimmy to do. It usually involved following behind as backup, which, apart from being legally allowed to speed, didn't require much action from him.
Jimmy waited at the freeway on-ramp as usual, and the dispatch center would notify him when the speeding pickup was nearing, making it unlikely for him to miss it. He turned on his siren and flashing lights and accelerated after the ASP police car on the freeway.
Watching the ASP in a freeway pursuit was truly enjoyable; their driving skills were excellent, following the escaping pickup through the traffic on the highway, smoothly changing lanes among the cars.
The pickup's speed wasn't too fast; 180-190 KM/H was about its limit. However, the freeway traffic was too heavy, without many opportunities for a PIT maneuver, which allowed the pickup to escape for a long time. ASP pursuits often lasted a long time, many over half an hour.
The driver of the pickup must have known he couldn't escape on the freeway, and he exited at the next ramp. However, Jimmy was almost at the county line and could no longer continue the pursuit beyond his jurisdiction. He had to notify the dispatch center that he was going to turn back at the county line and hand over the duties of assistance to the following Perry County police.
Jimmy continued to follow the ASP on the highway, and he hadn't seen the Perry County police car yet. Then, up ahead, the ASP made their move; the pickup turning at the intersection was hit in the rear by the ASP, skidding off the road sideways and stopping on the grass beside the road.
Jimmy pressed the brakes, opened the car door, drew his gun, and aimed at the pickup driver, waiting for the ASP police car to return and take the driver into custody.
With the case handled here, Jimmy drove back, directly informing Cage that he was heading back to headquarters. Substituting for Noah on patrol had been a mistake; his main goal had not been achieved, not a single unfortunate soul was caught, and quite a bit of time was wasted on the freeway.
On his way back, Jimmy saw vehicles speeding on the freeway but couldn't be bothered to stop them, smoothly returning to headquarters. After parking his patrol car, Jimmy went next door and bought some donuts for an afternoon snack, planning to rest well at headquarters for the afternoon.
However, rest was out of the question. He probably hadn't had as many bad days as these in the past year. Just as Jimmy returned to the station with his donuts, Chief James suddenly came looking for him, accompanied by a middle-aged man wearing an FBI jacket, who looked smart and quite overworked, with his hair halfway to bald and a receding hairline threatening to breach the skyline.
James: "Jimmy, there's a case that requires you to work with the FBI. This is Special Agent Harten from the FBI."
Harten: "I'm FBI Special Agent Harten. Chief James has recommended you as our support. I'm looking forward to working with you on a case." The balding man, Harten, shook hands with Jimmy, introducing himself.
Jimmy: "Assistant Sheriff Jimmy Yang, may I ask what the case is?"
Harten: "Sorry, I'll have to brief you on the case details later, not here."
Jimmy: "OK, what about the timing? How long will it take?"
Harten: "We're starting now, and you'll need to move with us. The end time is undetermined."
Jimmy looked at Chief James, who nodded, leaving Jimmy with no choice but to agree. It was clear he was getting the short end of the stick; typically, assisting the FBI meant making arrests or controlling the scene. There were rarely cases with no fixed end time that required long-term support.
Jimmy: "Agent Harten, do I need to drive a patrol car? Should I bring my equipment?"
Harten: "No need for a patrol car for the moment. Just bring your duty equipment, please. Take care of your affairs quickly and then come with me."
Jimmy put down his donuts, took some .357 Magnum bullets from his desk drawer into his pocket, then went to the restroom to take care of personal business. After coming out, he picked up his donuts and followed Agent Harten into the FBI's panel van.