Jimmy made a thorough round of the building and finally figured out it was just a transfer station - aside from the goods on the table, there was nothing else, only two beds, probably for the on-call personnel who stayed until there was work to do.

After Jimmy came out, he looked back inside. With so many bodies, there was bound to be a huge problem. But the building was made of brick and concrete, making it impossible to burn. The gas tanks of three cars had some gasoline, but it still wasn't enough to burn down the entire building.

Carrying his bag, Jimmy left, got into his car, drove away from the building, and stopped at a quiet place up ahead to copy the contacts from the Eagle's phone. He then called someone whose name was obviously a nickname, telling him to head to the abandoned building. Jimmy decided not to interfere with the rest.

Whoever this person was, using a nickname and being in the Eagle's phone, he was definitely from the underworld. They would have no problem disposing of the bodies and wouldn't alert the police, preventing any serious incidents that could set the Houston police department into chaos. Jimmy was quite considerate of the local law enforcement - it was better if such a major case did not come to light, as it could be exploited by others.

While driving, Jimmy threw out the dislodged SIM cards, including the Eagle's phone. After disposing of the bodies and evidence, he took off his disposable gloves and tossed them roadside. He planned to change his clothes and shoes later, disassociating himself from the major case entirely.

Of course, it was best to get rid of this car too. Jimmy drove to the suburbs, parked the car on a surveillance-free roadside, took his bag, cleaned out his personal items from the car, then closed the door without locking it, and headed straight to the intersection up ahead.

Walking along the road, Jimmy entered a supermarket at the intersection. When he came out, he was dressed in a new set of clothes and shoes, his old clothes separately thrown into a trash can. He bought a backpack for hiking and loaded it with all his belongings, then waited for a taxi in front of the supermarket.

Now, Jimmy looked just like a young Asian hiker, having washed off the fake tattoos with makeup remover, feeling fresher and in a good mood.

Jimmy gathered information from the taxi driver about a nearby used-car dealership, where he bought another car using a fake identity - it was just too inconvenient without one.

Mo Davis was in Olden, north of Houston, while Jimmy's current location was in the south, quite a distance. He chose to first check out the two warehouses David had mentioned. David's warehouse was in Sugar Land, southwest Houston, not far, while Eagle's warehouse was a bit farther in Edgebrook, south Houston.

It was odd - why Eagle's territory was in Midtown, yet his warehouse was in south Houston. He'd never had the chance to ask; sometimes, he thought gang members had peculiar ways of thinking.

David's warehouse was hidden within a logistics company's large yard, where several containers were lined up. Jimmy used his key to open one in the middle and couldn't help but remark, "Indeed, this is Houston, the fourth largest city in the country. Even the suburban gangs are this wealthy."

Inside the container warehouse, there were several handguns hanging on the wall, David's things were on a small table, and some boxes were on the floor. Opening one, Jimmy found his target - two unopened blocks of bricks and some pre-packaged seal bags.

Opening other suitcases, Jimmy found the funds and escape documents prepared by David. He only took one box of paper money and a Piaget watch from the table, then locked the warehouse and left.

Eagle's warehouse was rather dull - the only useful thing was a batch of goods, the rest was trash. Jimmy left the warehouse, taking a pile of loot back to the motel.

After getting paper and an envelope from the motel, Jimmy meticulously cleaned any potential fingerprints or other traces from them. Using his left hand, he wrote a few words and two addresses, cleaned the key as well, placed it inside the folded paper, then put it into the envelope and addressed it to the FBI Dallas office. The next day, he changed into an old set of clothes, left the motel, and dropped the envelope into a USPS mailbox by the roadside.

This was his gift to Lambert. As for how Chief Lambert would handle it, whether he would keep it to himself or use it as a favor, that was no longer Jimmy's concern. After all, he had only sent a letter, without even calling Lambert.

Time was of the essence. Davis had lost two men, and though less than a day had passed, Jimmy was concerned Davis might sense the danger and hide. So, without waiting too long, he rested for a night before heading directly to the villa in Olden that David had provided info on.

Since David didn't know the exact house number and the street was long, Jimmy drove around to survey the terrain before parking in front of a café, figuring waiting for Mo Davis here would be too difficult. Jimmy planned to have a coffee before returning to monitor the church and nightclub that Bob had mentioned.

Jimmy chose a window seat, ordered a coffee, then relaxed for a rare moment these days, looking at the map while drinking his coffee.

The sound of sirens rose faintly from outside. Jimmy turned to look out the window, and soon, a car chased by two police cars sped past the café.

Poor car, escaping a police chase in the city would not be easy. Jimmy watched them race past the café, reminiscing about such days.

It had been over two years since he left the county police station, and it seemed that since arriving in New York, he had barely experienced the thrill of a car chase anymore. Occasionally, watching them chase each other around, he really felt an itch.

Jimmy continued to drink coffee and rest. After a while, the siren sounded again, Jimmy looked over, it was still them, apparently circling around the area.

But this time, Jimmy wasn't so lucky. To avoid a car on the road, the car in front changed lanes, skidded, and crashed into Jimmy's car.

"My car!" Jimmy shouted, immediately stood up, and ran to the door. The police car behind also stopped, and the driver of the car that hit him probably didn't expect such a mistake; he opened the door, stepped out, and almost fell down.

He held onto the car to steady himself and then quickly ran to the side. Jimmy rushed out from the doorway, grabbed him, and pinned him to the ground. "FXXK! Can't you drive more carefully? It's a brand-new car!"

"Freeze, don't move!" The police car parked firmly, and a Houston police officer got out of the car, aimed a gun at Jimmy and the driver.

Jimmy continued to hold down the driver, looked up at the officer, and shouted, "Don't shoot, FBI!" The man under him had been struggling, but when he heard Jimmy yell FBI, he was startled, stopped struggling, and turned his head to look at Jimmy.

An officer approached Jimmy, while the other officers, still with guns drawn, formed an arc around them.

"I'm going to reach for my ID, don't get any ideas." Jimmy cautiously let go of the driver on the ground, reached into his pocket, and handed his FBI badge to the officer.

The Houston officer had seen Jimmy coming out of the coffee shop and naturally didn't think he was an accomplice, so he shifted his aim from Jimmy to the driver on the ground.

After confirming with the dispatch center, the officer returned the badge to Jimmy, "Thank you, Agent. Thanks for helping us catch him."

Jimmy: "What did he do?"

Officer: "Reckless driving, fleeing from the police. Is that your car?"

Jimmy sighed, clenched his teeth, and watched as the police cuffed and pulled up the driver: "This jerk, it's my friend's car, I borrowed it. I'm still on a case, I won't hold you up anymore."

Jimmy didn't mention compensation; it was already a second-hand car, now it was just more battered.

The police put the driver in the back seat of their police car and then began verifying his identity.

"Hey, guys, we've got good luck, a big fish." A policeman in the police car popped his head out and shouted.

"What's up?"

"This guy appears to be a suspect in a murder case, there's a warrant out from the FBI."

Jimmy was about to check his car, but suddenly became interested. He shouted at the police: "Wait, is his name Michael Newton?"

The officer looked at Jimmy and nodded. Jimmy laughed: "That's him, I came to Houston just to catch him."

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