North America Gunman Detective

Chapter 1302 - 709: The Boise Massacre

After a while, the officer came out of the house and approached Jimmy's car: "Agents, he said his car was stolen, and he reported it stolen a week ago. I just confirmed with the precinct; he wasn't lying—there is indeed a theft report on file."

Jimmy shook hands with his counterpart to thank him, and then he and Hope, binoculars in hand, kept a distant watch on the car owner's house.

Soon, a young man emerged from the owner's house, glanced around at the doorway, then wheeled a motorcycle out of the garage and departed.

Scaring them into action was indeed effective, Jimmy thought with a smile, as he started the car to follow, maintaining a considerable distance, not too close. Jimmy was quite experienced in tailing vehicles.

Soon, the person parked the motorcycle in front of a bar. Since it was daytime, the bar hadn't opened yet, so there weren't many people around the entrance.

Jimmy and Hope drove up, watching the bar entrance from the parking spot. Hope also picked up the camera, and soon three people came out. One of them struck Jimmy as very familiar: "It's Hammer. Let's move."

Jimmy said, opening the car door directly, and Hope put down the camera and got out from the passenger side.

As Jimmy walked over, he shouted, "FBI, Allen Hammer, stop."

Jimmy's words startled the three individuals. They turned and saw two suited agents approaching, immediately turning and running back into the bar. Jimmy and Hope pursued, shouted as they ran, storming into the bar.

The sound of gunfire echoed when Jimmy burst in. Fortunately, Jimmy had anticipated their movements, so as he pushed the door open, he ducked and lunged onto the floor, evading the first wave of gunfire. Drawing his Glock, he returned fire until his magazine was emptied, just seconds before Hope caught up from behind.

The person shooting just now wasn't Hammer, but one of his associates. Originally, there were three other individuals in the bar: one behind the counter, one outside, and another by the pool table. As Hammer and his crew re-entered, they called out to them, weapons drawn, aiming at the bar entrance. They still couldn't withstand Jimmy's onslaught, all shot and collapsing.

Jimmy: "Hope, check these people." Rising, he swapped magazines and rushed toward the back door of the bar. With a clear view of the door and corridor, Jimmy kept pace with Hammer and company, familiar as they were with the bar's layout, closing in on Hammer as he burst through the back door.

"Hammer, stop!"

Instead of words, he was met with bullets. Hammer was firing back while running, hardly aiming. Jimmy dodged sideways and targeted Hammer's legs, shooting a few rounds, finally crippling his mobility. The other young man offered no resistance and simply ran away.

Jimmy wasn't targeting him, so he refrained from shooting the young man from behind. Cautiously, he approached, talking all the while, as he neared Hammer, kicked away the handgun on the ground, and successfully cuffed Hammer.

Back in the bar, Hope had already disarmed the four individuals there. They were less fortunate; Jimmy's rapid-fire moments ago hadn't allowed for precise aiming. Two of them were hit in the torso, multiple times, and their condition was precarious.

Seeing Jimmy drag Hammer in, Hope finally breathed a sigh of relief. He took out his phone, immediately calling the Salt Lake City FBI office to report their success, and then dialed 911 to summon the police and ambulances to secure the scene and transport the injured to the hospital.