After the LRPD officers had handcuffed the suspect, they called an ambulance, and Jimmy asked them to call another one as he suspected he might have a fracture. The hook that had landed on his forearm still hurt, with little relief, and, ironically, his right hand and forearm, which he used to fire the gun, felt somewhat better in comparison.
After the ambulance arrived, Jimmy and the suspect were both taken to a nearby hospital for examination. An X-ray of Jimmy's arm showed a slight fracture in his left forearm, while no fracture was seen in his right from the images. It was the first time Jimmy had sustained an injury since becoming a police officer.
He opted for a splint, finding a cast to be too cumbersome. Once his left arm was secured, Jimmy had an LRPD officer drive him back to the county police headquarters in his police car.
Returning to the station in the shape of an injured man, Jimmy immediately became the center of attention. Even after a 1V5 shootout, Jimmy had been unscathed, so people wondered why he returned this time as a one-armed young man.
Chief James was also taken aback and came out to ask a few questions before giving Jimmy time off to rest.
The minor fracture wasn't too serious. Following the doctor's orders, Jimmy needed two weeks of rest, then to have the splint removed, get another X-ray to confirm healing, and if all was well, he could return to work.
The LRPD officer who had driven Jimmy didn't leave right away as he was waiting for another officer to swing by and take him back. Jimmy left his uniform and gear at the precinct, changed into his civilian clothes kept there, and carried his shoulder holster and revolver, ready to head home.
As he saw the LRPD officer, Jimmy suddenly had an idea.
"Hey, buddy, could you do me a favor? Drive my car to LRPD headquarters, I want to look at the suspect's records from today."
Jimmy was quite concerned about the person who had injured him for the first time, and although he had shot the guy twice, which could be seen as getting revenge, he thought learning more about him would be a way to commemorate his own first injury.
"Sure, no problem."
Jimmy's Mercury was parked at the precinct parking lot. It was still late winter, early spring and, fortunately, the car hadn't developed any minor issues that can occur when cars are left in the summer heat. The LRPD officer drove Jimmy to the LRPD headquarters, where he directly sought out Sergeant Ted Holman, a familiar face. It's easier to handle matters with someone you know, and besides, Ted still owed him a favor from a previous case.
"Hey, Sergeant Ted, I need your help again."
"Hey, Jimmy, what's up?"
"About the Boxer case earlier, this is the souvenir he left me. Can I take a look at his records? This is the first time I've been injured and taken to the hospital since joining the force."
"FK. Your first injury? You survived all those previous cases unscathed? Monster. No problem, wait a minute, I'll check on his records."
Sergeant Ted had worked with Jimmy more than once or twice; they were practically acquaintances. He was willing to fulfill such a request, especially since catching Mark Riz had been largely thanks to Jimmy.
After a while, Sergeant Ted printed out Mark Riz's records and handed them to Jimmy.
"Don't take it with you, leave it here after you're done looking. The first guy to take down the Butcher deserves to be remembered."
Jimmy took the records and, in a sort of retaliation, sat right down on Ted's desk to read through them.
Mark Riz, a former UFC fighter, born in 1966, competed in the UFC from 94-97, with no record of winning any championships, retired in 98.
Jimmy was genuinely surprised that a UFC fighter who had retired 2-3 years ago still possessed such formidable attacking power.
He had always thought that with his talents, "Heart Eye" and "Golden Finger", he should be considered more than an ordinary human. His current reputation was almost entirely based on his "rebirth cheat." After this injury, he realized he truly needed to step up his game, particularly his combat and hit resistance training.
Jimmy left the records on Sergeant Ted's desk, got up, and prepared to leave, just as Mark Riz's personal belongings had been collected.
Curious to see what a Boxer like that would carry, Jimmy shamelessly tagged along with Sergeant Ted, watching as he opened each evidence bag to check its contents against the inventory list.
Suddenly, Jimmy spotted something familiar, a metallic card that appeared to be made of copper with a silver-grey heraldic shield on it, featuring a proud, upright lion with two banners below, inscribed with words he didn't recognize, "aurum" and "divitiae", and the year 1890 underneath.
Jimmy had never seen the card before, but he had seen the shield emblem – in a bar next to the county police station, probably on a cabinet.
The phone rang with a "ding-a-ling" and Sergeant Ted's expression twisted after he picked it up. Ted hung up and looked at Jimmy without a word.
Feeling uncomfortable under Ted's stare, Jimmy was caught up in the strange atmosphere.
"What happened?"
"Jimmy, you're really our lucky star. Mark Riz's fingerprints matched a murder case. In 1998, in a Miami apartment, a woman was murdered. A fingerprint of the perpetrator was found at the scene, and just now, through the criminal fingerprint database, we confirmed Mark Riz's prints match those from that case."
Jimmy's mind whirred, thinking, damn, if I had known he was a murderer, I wouldn't have chased him at all – I would've just shot him and spared myself the injury.