Rick could not let the gunman fall into the hands of the FBI because this man was one of their backup agents, a sort of standby choice for various plans. Although he had not participated in the plans, he had already made contact with Rick, and even if exposed, it wouldn't threaten the plans but it could endanger Rick as a person.

Rick was a hands-on person. Most of the agents of both the Harvest Plan and its advanced version, the Las Plan, had been scouted and brought into the scheme by him, so he knew each of them well and had been following up on these plans.

If the FBI managed to break him, it would inevitably lead to Rick's exposure, thereby jeopardizing all the plans and everyone involved with the plans. Therefore, keeping him silent at all costs, or getting control transferred to an agency where he could intervene, was essential.

Rick made a phone call and then drove to another covert agency. At the entrance, he received the pre-arranged access documents and drove into the facility.

In an advisory office, Rick met the person he wanted to see, an old white man. However, the outcome of their conversation was not what Rick had expected.

Rick went over the situation and his concerns, then shared his plan in hopes the elder could help coordinate with DHS.

The old man said, "Idiot. I don't know what happened before, but if there are already two DHS agents in the New York office and the case is still in the hands of the FBI, there must be a reason. If we now get DHS to take over, isn't that just signalizing to everyone that there's a problem here? What the hell are you thinking?"

Rick said, "But this could lead to the exposure of our plans, and the loss will only be greater. If DHS takes over, we can still try to manage and control the investigation results. The current situation is very problematic, at the very least we should have the investigation moved to D.C., even if it's the FBI headquarters, it's better handled than in Manhattan."

The old man asked, "Why remove that man? You just said he was only a part of the control group and didn't participate in the plan."

Rick fell silent; this time, he was merely returning a favor with no previous complications of this sort.

Seeing Rick's expression, the old man seemed to understand that there were other people involved. He thought for a moment: "Plan for two contingencies. First, cut off all contact, you know what to do. Second, divert their target elsewhere."

Rick could see that the old man didn't want to get involved either. He nodded, stood up, and left the advisory office.

On his way back to the command center, he called Wendell: "Check file number 13, find a target to divert their attention."

After making two more calls, Rick started the car feeling more at ease.

-----------------

Jimmy saw the news on TV and knew it was bad.

Both the NYPD and FBI were often filmed during their investigations, with interesting or egregious cases sometimes broadcasted as special episodes. However, whether police officers or agents, their appearance on screen was generally good, even if not particularly handsome—the overall image was decent. Of course, there were rare cases of police brutality.

This time his own case was far too conspicuous; although his face had been blurred in the video, his body was entirely captured on camera. His right hand held a silvery revolver, his left a badge—though the badge's full image wasn't captured—and the CSI arriving on site wore an FBI windbreaker, directly linking him to the scene. The TV station even conveniently displayed an FBI badge on the screen as an illustrative example.

Fortunately, even though Jimmy had reduced his gym sessions, he hadn't lost shape. Gray shorts, somewhat distinguishable under the dim evening lights, saved him from full exposure. At least it wasn't a total embarrassment.

Jimmy sighed as Nia's call came through when he was watching the news.

Nia said, "Jimmy, turn on the TV, now."

Jimmy sighed, "I've already seen it."

Nia asked, "Is that really you?"

Jimmy said, "Yeah, a case broke out tonight, I rushed downstairs in a hurry to chase the shooter and didn't have time to get dressed."

Nia, trying to stifle her laughter on the other end, finally seemed to gain control before Jimmy continued, "This is quite an embarrassment, I'm probably going to be socially dead, they've got quite the laugh at my expense."

Nia asked, "Are you still at the hotel?"

Jimmy confirmed, "Yeah, I've got to go to the hospital for a check-up. Overdid the exercise today."

Nia said, "All right, then get your check-up, I'll come to see you tonight."

Jimmy responded, "Okay, be careful, it's really not so peaceful lately."

Jimmy hung up the phone and, watching the TV host repeatedly ridicule his plight, turned off the TV. He left for the hospital in his car; the wound on his waist had been checked to ensure it hadn't split, but he needed a follow-up to be sure about the injury above the large intestine.

After the examination, the doctor confirmed all was well, and with the rate at which Jimmy's wounds were healing, he'd be able to eat normally in a few days, though he was advised to limit meat. He was now cleared to eat solid foods.

Jimmy's mood finally improved. What an unlucky night it had been. He drove straight to the office, where they had captured a suspect—well, half-dead, to be precise. Of the five shots Jimmy had fired, three hit the back seat of the driver's side; without the obstruction, the suspect might have been declared dead on the scene.

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