Jimmy followed Frank for a stretch when he suddenly realized something was off about their destination. Their car stopped by the road, right next to the Russian Embassy. Jimmy didn't park behind Frank; instead, he drove on for quite a distance, putting space between them.

Frank and his crew didn't mind; after all, they were already retired old men. Even if they were spotted, it wouldn't be much of a problem, especially since they were already being hunted down and weren't even sure they would survive. Who cared if they were seen making contact with the Russians?

For Jimmy, the Russian Embassy was still a very sensitive area. It was hard to believe the Americans didn't have external surveillance monitoring the Embassy. Not to mention that within a one-kilometer radius, there would undoubtedly be all sorts of surveillance cameras and monitoring teams from various agencies. Even though he was wearing sunglasses at night and donning a cowboy hat in the car, who knew if someone could identify him based on the parts of him that were visible. An FBI Special Agent parking by the Russian Embassy in the dead of night was textbook spy behavior.

Regret, Jimmy looked around and found nothing, not even a pair of binoculars prepared. He could only see Frank getting out of the car and walking towards the Embassy, but he couldn't make out anything happening on the Embassy's side. He was still lacking in experience; since he knew Frank was up to something, he should have prepared some equipment in advance.

And the guns, Jimmy was on a business trip to Dallas, so he brought along both of his firearms, but they were registered service weapons, which he couldn't use under such circumstances.

Experience, indeed, took time to accumulate. Jimmy had only dealt with a gang before and hadn't handled anything of this magnitude, so there was still much he was lacking.

After a long wait, Frank finally appeared. The car started, and Jimmy followed suit, trailing from a distance. Since it was nighttime and traffic was sparse, he didn't worry about losing them.

Suddenly, Jimmy noticed a car behind him that seemed suspicious. They weren't driving fast; if the car continued at its previous speed, it would have passed him by now, but it remained several dozen meters back without accelerating.

He checked the rear-view mirrors, estimating from the headlights that there was only one car. Jimmy remained calm and continued driving for a stretch, then signaled right and pulled into a gas station. The car behind didn't follow, but kept driving past. Had he guessed wrong?

After refueling, Jimmy hit the road again. This time, he directly called Frank, "Frank, check behind you. Is there a sedan that has been following you?"

Frank replied, "I noticed it a while back. I'll lead them on a chase; you find a place to wait."

Jimmy responded, "OK."

The old agents' keen senses were indeed sharp. In just the time it took to refuel, Frank had detected their tail. This also confirmed Jimmy's suspicion: they weren't after him, but using him as a cover to follow Frank.

The question now was, who were they?

Jimmy found an opportunity to park on the side of the road, rolled down the window, and smoked a cigarette while waiting for notification from Frank. He waited for half an hour before Frank eventually sent the location of a motel.

When Jimmy arrived at the motel, where no ID check or information was required, it was the most convenient for daily use, and importantly, this kind of place had no cameras.

Jimmy knocked on Frank's door, "Frank, how did it go?"

Frank answered, "Yeah, shook them off. Seems they were FBI, started tailing us after the Embassy."

Jimmy inquired, "Any danger?"

Frank reassured, "Shouldn't be. We head out to Langley tomorrow morning. Just be a bit more alert when you sleep tonight; don't sleep too deeply."

Jimmy nodded and left Frank's room, returning to his own.

In the middle of his sleep, Jimmy was suddenly awakened. He used his "Heart Eye Observation" to check outside and spotted four people approaching the motel rooms, moving with professional stealth. So far, Jimmy hadn't heard a sound.

This wasn't the first time he had been jolted awake like this. Similar incidents had happened several times back in Tata Town. Jimmy quietly grabbed the gun from under his pillow and edged off the bed to stand by the door.

Watching their movements, it seemed they weren't targeting him but heading towards Frank's room, reaffirming Jimmy's guess that these people were likely Federation agents, although which department was unclear. Observing an Embassy usually fell under the FBI, but this was Washington, D.C.; who knew for certain?

Jimmy wasn't too worried; from his vantage point, he could see Frank and Marvin had already gotten up, poised like him behind the door, sidewise, to avoid exposure.

Observing their movements, Jimmy walked a few steps, put the gun back under the pillow—his issued weapon was too easy to trace and better left unused if possible. Regret hit him; had he known he'd be involved in trouble, he should've prepared and carried a backup gun.

Jimmy watched the four men approach Frank and Marvin's rooms. Their entry was slow; they cautiously opened the doors but didn't fling them wide, slipping in quietly as the first two men targeted the beds, and the next two followed. At that moment, Frank and Marvin nudged the doors shut and, working together, promptly subdued the four intruders.

Well, old age and cunning, or perhaps it's true what they say: the older, the spicier. Tom was right about Frank being his instructor; those combat skills, Jimmy truly envied them. He only learned some basic combat skills at the FBI Academy, integrating some moves from Barmou, but he wasn't smooth enough to smoothly take down four assailants like Frank and Marvin did.

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