North America Gunman Detective

Chapter 600: Unexpected Incident (Part 2)


This is Jimmy, able to detect vibrations amid the city's clamor.

Jimmy called Ruiz and said, "Mark's phone is beside the trash can in the alley, not inside it. Something's happened to him."

Ruiz: "Investigate immediately, I'll arrange for support agents to assist you."

Jimmy: "Yes, we need more people, there might be quite a few places to search."

Jimmy: "Understood, have them bring a walkie-talkie for me. Also, have someone check my vehicle, I can't get there now."

After hanging up, Jimmy immediately checked left and right before walking into the alley. After a short walk, he quickly turned and ran back to the trash can, inspecting around and inside it. Then, he began checking from the alley entrance, moving deeper into the alley bit by bit.

Soon, Jimmy found blood traces, very little, only two drops on the ground.

Jimmy dialed Ruiz again, "Send over two forensic officers, I found two drops of blood on the ground, we need to verify if it's Mark's."

After the call, Jimmy looked up at the alley and the surroundings. Trouble is brewing, this time it's big trouble.

Jimmy checked forward little by little, finally reaching the other end of the alley, finding no more blood traces. Looking left and right, the spot wasn't far from the intersection; if Mark's in trouble, no one could have carried him off the street unnoticed.

No sign of a parked car here, though it can't be ruled out that a car might have taken someone away; he had already checked these earlier, the alley had no surveillance cameras, there's no chance to slack off.

Jimmy arrived at the mouth of the alley, scrutinizing the apartment buildings on either side. He walked onto the sidewalk, only taking a few steps before hearing sirens approach; a police car stopped in front of a nearby apartment building.

Two officers got out, immediately drawing their pistols. As Jimmy approached, he looked towards the building's interior; at this time, no anomaly could be ignored.

Soon, Jimmy spotted something amiss: on the second floor in a room, someone lay on the sofa, another lay on the ground, while a third was pacing the adjacent room, seemingly with a phone held to his ear.

Jimmy quickly reached the apartment building entrance; the two officers hadn't gone up, only standing guard at the door, likely awaiting support.

Jimmy: "FBI, officer, what's happening here?"

The officer glanced at Jimmy exposing the FBI badge on his belt, not verifying his identity any further, "Someone reported shots fired inside the building, we're waiting for backup."

Jimmy: "Did the caller mention who fired the shots?"

Officer: "This shouldn't concern the FBI, right?"

Jimmy: "An agent of ours went missing nearby, I'm tracking his whereabouts. If there's gunfire here, he might be in trouble."

The officer glanced up at the building, "The caller only mentioned shots on the second floor."

Jimmy drew his pistol, "There might be our agent inside; I need to assume command here. Coordinate with your superior, I'm Jimmy Yang from the FBI Manhattan Office Homicide Team."

Jimmy delivered this string of words without pause, monitoring the two officers beside him; they exchanged a look, then reported the situation via walkie-talkie, requesting their superior to hurry over.

But soon, the walkie-talkie instructed them to verify Jimmy's credentials, then directly authorized Jimmy's actions.

Upon hearing the walkie-talkie message, Jimmy wasted no time, drawing his Glock, "I'm going up, keep an eye behind."

The apartment building's door was open, not locked. Jimmy moved inside, heading up the stairs directly. Although he knew where the problem was, he still aimed his gun at the stairway overhead as he hurried upwards.

Jimmy: "Contact the caller, confirm which room the shots came from."

The officer behind knocked on a room door, "NYPD."

The door opened a crack, an inside voice spoke softly, "Officer, the shots came from my opposite neighbor's room. I don't know his name."

Officer: "How many people are there?"

Caller: "I'm not sure, people come by frequently to see him."

Jimmy didn't wait any longer. He walked over: "Go back to your room, hide."

He positioned himself by the opposite doorway, here was a safe spot by red brick walls near the door. *Knock knock*, Jimmy knocked on the door and shouted loudly, "FBI, open up!"

The person in the room had hung up earlier, but didn't come out, instead directly sitting on the bed. Hearing knocking and "FBI" at the door, he rose and drew a pistol from his pants.

He aimed from the bedroom doorway at the room's main door, then instantly turned and ran to the window, opening it and climbing out.

A fire escape was below the man's window, a kind only seen on older buildings retrofitted externally; only New York's old buildings have these, newer constructions don't.

Jimmy couldn't wait, he took a step back, then kicked the door repeatedly, finally kicking it open, immediately spotting the man on the ground — Mark.

"FBI," Jimmy held his gun entering the room, pointed left towards the kitchen, then moved to the right towards the bedroom and bathroom. The officer following him pointed his gun left, quickly shouting out "Clear."

Jimmy stood by the bedroom window looking outside; the kid who fled was already at the rear intersection, disappearing in a blink.

Jimmy dashed back to the living room, shouting as he crouched beside Mark and reached to check his carotid pulse, "Call an ambulance."

Thankfully, the heartbeat was normal, though blood was evident on the ground. Jimmy slighted shifted Mark's head, noticing blood staining the back of Mark's head. It seemed like a sneak attack from behind.

Jimmy glanced at the person draped over the sofa, reaching to check his carotid pulse too, finding a heartbeat, but no awakening. Jimmy had kicked the door and shouted, yet despite now being three in the room, none had roused him. Clearly, he wasn't asleep, but unconscious.

Jimmy took out his phone and called Ruiz, "Found Mark, he's head-injured, currently unconscious, I contacted NYPD to get an ambulance here."

Ruiz: "Okay, keep me updated."

Jimmy reported the address and instructed Ruiz to send forensic officers to investigate, then hung up and inspected Mark's gear.

His holster was empty, the gun wasn't in it. The fleeing person's weapon was very likely Mark's. His belt badge was intact; FBI documents were discarded on the floor. Jimmy left it, suspecting the fleeing suspect's fingerprints may remain, needing examination later.

Losing his issued gun would spell trouble for Mark, but there's no covering for him this time.

Jimmy surveyed the room, the coffee table oddly placed, clutter scattered about the floor, sofa cushions flung all over, seeming indicative of a struggle here.

The two officers stood motionless in the room, only watching Jimmy's actions. As Jimmy rose to see them, he asked them to secure the perimeter, waiting for FBI personnel to take over.

This room needed thorough investigation, the fugitive sought identification, the unconscious person needed identity verification.

Jimmy walked over, flipping him over, handcuffing his hands behind, preventing unforeseen events upon waking.

Soon, the ambulance arrived; paramedics pushed gurneys up the stairs, placing Mark on one before taking him away, likewise with the unconscious man. Two officers were assigned by Jimmy to accompany the ambulance for security while Jimmy remained in the room awaiting further support for evidence collection.

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