In the Upper City of eastern Albuquerque, Hank parked the car at the intersection. They could see a small van parked by the roadside ahead, which was one of their DEA surveillance vehicles.

This wasn't New York. Those bread van-like vehicles were quite conspicuous here, whereas their single-row microvans were more common on the streets, especially the ones marked as refrigerated transport.

Since they weren't sure where Tim was on this street, none of them got out of the car, waiting for the surveillance team ahead to make inquiries. They were all new faces, and having received training, they wouldn't normally be discovered unless they were exceedingly unlucky.

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While Hank and Steven were searching for Tim, Jimmy continued with his own plan, wandering around to look for Scott and laying false trails. However, his suit had been sent for laundry in the morning; he was now dressed in casual wear. Since the clothes were thin, the holster on the outside was quite obvious.

For convenience's sake, Jimmy simply hung the FBI badge around his neck, saving himself the trouble of frequently explaining his identity.

This time, Jimmy expanded his search area, driving around the neighborhood and knocking on several residents' doors to inquire.

Jimmy thought it would be just like the past few days where he could make a brief appearance and then head back, but when he knocked on a resident's door, the person who moved from lying to sitting on the living room couch, got up to open the door, clearly holding a handgun in his hand while keeping it behind his back.

"Fxxk!" Jimmy cursed inwardly, promptly positioning himself beside the door.

"Who's outside?"

"FBI, there are some things I need to ask." Before Jimmy could finish, the person inside had already raised the gun, aiming at the front door. Hearing Jimmy's words, he immediately turned and ran towards the back.

Jimmy placed his hand on his Glock, watching as the man ran out the back door before he finally let go of the gun handle.

This was Albuquerque, and it had nothing to do with him. Whatever the situation with this person, it didn't matter as long as he didn't attack Jimmy.

Jimmy turned back to the sidewalk and continued on to the next house. Just as he reached the door, he heard a gunshot, not very loud. Jimmy turned his head towards the direction of the gunshot, which came from the direction of the house where the man had fled.

Jimmy cursed inwardly twice and immediately turned back to his car, driving towards the street behind. He had no choice; after all, Jimmy was an FBI agent. Earlier, he hadn't chased the fleeing armed man because he hadn't done anything particularly serious then. Now that a shot had been fired, the situation was serious.

Driving up to the street, Jimmy saw a police car parked by the curb, and a Patrol Officer was lying on the ground with blood already visible on the ground.

Jimmy stopped the car next to him, grabbing the radio to call out, "Officer shot, send an ambulance and backup immediately, police car number 146."

"Dispatch center received. Who are you?"

"A passing agent, arrange for backup immediately."

Luckily, Jimmy was very familiar with the police radio. If it had been someone completely unfamiliar, it would take much longer to report the incident by phone at this moment. Jimmy briefly checked on the officer; the poor guy, wearing a Bullet-Proof Vest, had been shot from the side. The vest protected the front and back, but the sides were essentially just fabric.

Jimmy didn't move the officer, only drew his pistol to stand guard beside him. The gunman who had fired the shots was no longer in the vicinity, and it was unclear where he'd run off to. Observing the houses nearby with Heart Eye, the people inside didn't seem particularly panicked.

Soon, a police car with flashing lights and a siren arrived. Seeing the FBI badge hanging from Jimmy's chest, they relaxed their guard and rushed over.

The newly arrived officers took over Jimmy's guard post, and they all breathed a sigh of relief when the ambulance arrived. Having an officer on patrol shot was the worst scenario. It could have led to a tragedy if no one was there to call it in, which is why many City Police departments required two-person patrols, except where officer numbers were critically low.

Jimmy also followed the Patrol Officer to the police station. Since he was the first to find the shot officer, if not for his identity, he might have been detained at the station as a suspect. Now, the situation was clear: he was the hero that saved an officer from near death, so at least for the moment, the station staff were very courteous to him. He had no choice but to stay a while longer.

A Sergeant came over to chat with Jimmy and express gratitude. The Patrol Officer was one of his men, and Jimmy had essentially saved the Sergeant from a tragedy.

After a brief conversation, Jimmy suddenly remembered that these policemen were the most familiar with the city. Why not ask them?

Jimmy: "Sergeant Philton, I'd like to consult you about something. Do you know of any storage company here in Albuquerque with the initials 'KA'?"

Philton thought for a while and shook his head: "I have no recollection of it, KA. Are there any other names or clues?"

Jimmy: "No, I have a set of keys with the letters 'KA' on them. They're probably for a storage box, but I can't figure out where it is."

Philton: "KA... Let me think about it. Airport lockers? Albuquerque International Sunport's code is KABQ."

Thinking it over, Jimmy said, "That will be a clue, thanks."

Philton: "I'll ask around for you." Philton went aside, spoke to a few people, then came back. "Here's a lead, Kyle Anderson Boxing Club, founded by Kyle Anderson, former heavyweight champion. He started this club after retiring."

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