Jimmy instantly realized who he had caught. Without a word, he dragged him through the woods to the roadside and threw him into the police car cage. Cage followed and took the passenger seat.
"Drive forward, my police car is up ahead on the road," Cage directed Jimmy, who drove and found Cage's car. They pulled a man out of the backseat, replaced his handcuffs with Cage's, and placed him in the back of Cage's police car. Jimmy then drove straight back to the drug trafficker's camp.
Jimmy found Ted, "Hey, Ted, that guy ran into the woods, couldn't find him, Cage went back to his car."
Ted looked at Jimmy, his gaze shifting from direct to a sidelong glance, "It's okay if you didn't find him, losing one isn't a big deal. We did well today, thanks, Jimmy."
Jimmy, smiling, asked Ted, "Anything else you need help with?"
"Nothing else, we can handle it."
"OK, then I'm heading back to the station. Call me if you need anything. Goodbye."
Jimmy returned to his police car, picked up the radio, "Cage, mission's over here, dismissed." He then drove back to the station. As for the unfortunate guy who had escaped, well, since he was gone, it didn't matter anymore.
Jimmy's day shift started at 8 a.m., and it was not yet 6 a.m. He went back to the station and first took a nap in the lounge before getting up to prepare for his shift, obviously already past his start time.
But that wasn't a problem, as Jimmy had already discussed it with Cage who would contact the DEA during the day to issue a support notice, resulting in an extra night of overtime pay, sweet.
With little rest at night, Jimmy spent most of his daytime shift dozing off at his desk. Fortunately, there wasn't much going on, and no incidents occurred.
At noon, Cage, dressed in civilian clothes, came to the station with pizza and several cups of coffee for Jimmy.
Jimmy took a slice of pizza and said, "Cage, why aren't you resting at home? You've been busy all night."
Cage, apparently having not eaten either, also grabbed a slice and spoke while eating, "Not sleepy today, just came to check on everyone at headquarters."
"How's that guy doing?"
"Oh, he got away, couldn't catch up."
"What? How's that possible!"
"Never mind, the DEA has already issued the support notice. Our job here is done," Cage continued after a sip of coffee, "They really made a big haul this time, 5 kilograms of stuff, 14 people, that should keep them busy for a while. Let's stay away from that for now."
Jimmy was somewhat speechless; Cage's topic shifting skills seemed a bit off. But since Cage said it didn't matter, then it didn't matter. It seemed they probably wouldn't get a chance to go after that guy again.
The two chatted casually, and Cage took the rest of the coffee to others.
It was clear that Cage was very excited now. After Jimmy finished the pizza, he headed out. That afternoon he had to go to the prison to transport convicts to the court, a task he had been doing a lot lately. He also had to deliver a few court summons that afternoon. Basically, Jimmy was just filling in wherever the department needed support.
Jimmy arrived at the county jail. The transportation of inmates to the court was provided by the jail side with a sergeant driver and a transport vehicle. Jimmy was in charge of leading the way and escorting.
As Jimmy stood outside the jail, it was just the time for the inmates to get some air, the same as usual, some foul-mouthed inmates started making noise again.
The prison guards knew Jimmy the Butcher's reputation, because everyone was under the jurisdiction of the County Sheriff's Office, and they knew more than the units in Little Stone City.
Jimmy's expression grew dark as he noted the few who were making the most noise inside the prison. A guard alongside him during the handover chuckled and said to Jimmy, "Don't get mad, Jimmy, leave it to me, I'll teach them a lesson."
"Thanks, Kent, I hope I don't see them outside, especially that one with the little braids."
"Don't worry, we are professionals."
After Jimmy had signed, he drove the police car in the lead with a prison transport vehicle following behind, and they headed together to the courthouse.
The journey was smooth, and after handing over at the courthouse, Jimmy collected the subpoenas he was to deliver and continued on his way.
Jimmy had only three subpoenas to deliver, but the areas they covered were extensive, and the locations of the subpoenas were not close to each other.
Delivering subpoenas was considered a relatively easy task. Jimmy looked at the three subpoenas, one for domestic violence, one for theft, and one for a personal protective order.
The first two went smoothly, but the last one, the protective order, caused a complication.
Jimmy arrived at the address of the person who had applied for the protective order, which had been filed by the homeowner asking his son to leave his house. Situations like this are actually quite common in the United States, where too many useless people have reached middle age and are still worthless, living at their parent's home and sometimes even being violent towards them.
Oftentimes, they would apply for a temporary protective order to have their child temporarily move out, giving everyone enough space to handle related matters. Some protective orders are signed directly in court for the petitioner to pick up, while others are delayed for a judge's signature before being delivered to the petitioner, as was the case with Jimmy.
Jimmy arrived at the door and stood to the side as he knocked, "Plaskey County Police, please open the door."
Having been a police officer for a long time, Jimmy had developed this cautious habit. Knocking on the door while staying out of the center was too dangerous. Standing to the side didn't delay the knocking and could prevent someone from inside from striking him suddenly—safety first.
Although Jimmy now had Heart Eye and could always see the situation behind the door, he still followed these safety rules.
A man in his thirties came to the door and asked, "What's up?"
Jimmy holding the protective order said, "Is Mr. Emilio Cantilo here? There is a judge-issued protective order that needs his signature."
Another voice from inside the house called out, "I'm here."
An elderly man came from inside, took the protective order from Jimmy's hand, glanced at it, and then directly said to the young man, "Now, you can leave here, go wherever you want, just don't come near my house."
Upon hearing the old man's words, the young man immediately flew into a rage, flailing his arms and arguing with the old man in Spanish.
Jimmy stepped back. He didn't understand Spanish and had no idea what they were saying.
The old man shouted to Jimmy, "Officer, please help me, I have a protective order, I need him to leave."
Jimmy had already looked beforehand and knew that the young man was the one the old man was referring to. He tried to calm the agitated young man, and then the situation took a sharp turn.
The young man reached behind his back and pulled out a handgun, waving it at the old man. Seeing the young man's actions, Jimmy immediately ducked behind a nearby wall corner.
"Put down the gun and raise your hands." Jimmy, taking cover behind the corner, drew his gun and pointed it at the door, then started shouting.
The young man, seeing Jimmy pointing a gun at him, seemed to suddenly gain some strength, pointing his handgun at Jimmy. Jimmy didn't dare to gamble on the man's aim and immediately fired a shot, hitting the young man in the arm, causing the gun in his hand to drop to the ground.
Jimmy was using a 92F, and he often practiced at the range. He not only practiced with revolvers but also trained with his main service weapon, the 92F. At such short range—only about 3 meters—the accuracy was very high.
Another point was that the revolver's .357 Magnum Bullet had quite lethal power. If the purpose wasn't to kill, it was better to use the 92F under normal circumstances.
"Get down, get down now!" Jimmy's pistol still aimed at the young man, even though he no longer had a gun in his hand and had been shot in the right arm. Jimmy didn't go directly to subdue him but loudly demanded that he lie down on his own to ensure safety before going over to handcuff him.
The old man was also frightened and started shouting something at the young man in Spanish. The young man held his right arm with his left hand and wailed, eventually succumbing to the pressure, first kneeling on the ground, then lying down, pushing the gun lying on the ground away with his hand.
Jimmy walked over, handcuffed him first, then called the dispatch center.
"A28 calling the dispatch center, officer-involved shooting, no injuries, please send an ambulance to 230 Jennifer Street."