"This one is a bit tough since their members are by invitation only, and I'm not qualified to invite yet."
"Okay, got it. Looks like I'll just have to buy ready-made furniture from the market."
Jimmy finished his drink, pressed a bill under the cup, waved goodbye,and left.
Jimmy had no doubts that the lion symbol was a logo for a high-end club. In the United States, there are countless clubs of all kinds, including secretive ones and teams, not to mention those associated with conspiracy theories, such as Freemasonry, Skull and Bones, Templar Knights, and the like.
Jimmy didn't feel the need to dig too deep into this club. However, he was considering joining a few clubs so he'd have places to unwind during breaks, and not just be a homebody.
Jimmy didn't really have any specific hobbies; other people were into sports like golf or squash, which he hadn't much tried. He thought this needed some consideration.
After a few more days of rest, Jimmy went back to the hospital. After an X-ray, the doctor declared him fully recovered, and as long as he was careful not to get injured again over the next few days, he could confidently go back to work.
Sergeant James was truly concerned about Jimmy's injury; although the doctor had declared Jimmy was fine, he still granted an additional week of rest for him to recuperate well.
Jimmy certainly wouldn't refuse this sick leave. He wasn't in a hurry to get back to work for the salary; taking legitimate rests was a good thing. Now that his arm was okay, he went back to the bar to see if he could find some fun.
The busy third week ended quickly. Although Jimmy couldn't engage in much physical activity, it helped alleviate some of his physical needs; however, such opportunities were rare.
Back at the police station, Jimmy was fully charged again. After clocking in, he contacted the dispatch center to update his status and prepped to continue his dull life of studying, which he had mostly spent on doctrine while at home. It was time to switch things up and ease his mind.
However, his plans were interrupted again. Just a few minutes after connecting, the dispatch center issued new orders, this time not to support the LRPD, but the Northwest Division of the county police.
Noah, the poor guy, hadn't managed a PIT maneuver during a car chase well, veering off to the emergency lane on the right side and crashing into a utility pole, while the car being chased rolled over due to loss of control.
Luckily, Noah had informed Cage, the sergeant, who was supporting from behind, otherwise it could have been deadly. Thankfully, Cage promptly called an ambulance, and both he and the involved driver were taken to the hospital.
Jimmy was going to replace Noah and Cage; with Noah in the hospital and Cage handling the involved driver, the Northwest Division was suddenly short-staffed.
Jimmy drove the police car from headquarters, stopping by the hospital to check on Noah first. Thankfully, the injuries weren't serious, and the airbag had deployed properly to save him; he just had some soft tissue damage and a mild concussion, and would be fine with some rest.
Back on the road, Jimmy encountered Cage's usual issues, no big problems on the roads, but plenty of small ones.
Near the 30 highway, Jimmy noticed a Jaguar convertible making an illegal U-turn. Although it was now late February, and the temperature wasn't high, driving a convertible in this weather, and the driver being bald—quite the warrior.
Jimmy followed the car as it made the illegal U-turn across the solid line, turned on the siren, and motioned for it to pull over.
The driver cooperated well, pulling the car to the side of the road and placing his hands on the steering wheel. Jimmy first used Heart Eye to check the car and didn't notice any issues, but as he approached, something felt off.
The driver appeared to be in his 30s, Caucasian, bald, and what caught Jimmy's attention was the barcode tattoo on the back of his head.
He remembered a movie character with a similar appearance.
"Hi, sir, I stopped you because you just made an illegal U-turn over there. Could I see your driver's license and vehicle registration card, please?"
"Sure."
"Your name?"
"Tobias Rieper, here are my driver's license and vehicle registration card."
"One moment."
Jimmy took the license and registration back to the police car, confirmed they were in order through the dispatch center, wrote a citation, walked back, explained the ticket, and then let him go.
While explaining the ticket, Jimmy took a careful look with Heart Eye. There was only one box on the passenger seat, and driver's clothes were form-fitting, forcing all the patterns he saw with Heart Eye to blend into a murky black, making it impossible to discern whether the driver was carrying any weapons.
Jimmy got back into the police car and continued patrolling, pondering the familiar impression from before. Soon, he broke into a cold sweat as he recalled the general plot of that movie: an assassin affiliated with an organization, the members of which were bald with barcodes.
Something wasn't right. Jimmy pulled the police car onto a small road. Was he cursed somehow? How could a routine patrol encounter such dangerous individuals?
Fortunately, the man had shown no intention of aggression. The abilities he had in the movie, both in firearms and hand-to-hand combat, could easily handle a small-time cop like himself.
Jimmy thought back over his recent experiences and his head began to ache—the more he thought, the more troubled he felt. It seemed his streak of bad luck had started around the end of last year.
He'd encountered a bizarre murder case at Christmas, dealt with a prisoner escape while on transfer, got involved in an FBI case where 4 were up against 9, and even had a potential retaliation threat from the Baka Family. Recently, he'd handled a murderer, and now he'd come across an assassin.