North America Gunman Detective

Chapter 1490 801: Please Help Me

Steven didn't talk much with Jimmy, just had a cup of Americano to lift his spirits before leaving. Drinking coffee this late meant he had decided to work overtime. How exactly Steven got Tyrus's name wasn't important. It was clear the DEA prepared something after taking people in; the only question was how they were going to write the report.

Jimmy rested for a night and then returned to Hank's house the following morning. This time he was in luck; both Hank and Mary were home, along with a black man encouraging Hank to keep moving forward. Hank was supporting himself with a walker, slowly inching forward.

"Hi, Hank, very good. Looks like you're close to recovery."

Jimmy handed the flowers he brought to Mary, who opened the door, and walked over to Hank. Hank looked exhausted, sweating all over, and put on a strained smile. "Thanks for the encouragement."

The black man seemed to be the physical therapist, and he encouraged Hank, "Just a few more meters. Keep going, just a little more."

Hank nodded and continued inch by inch, his arms shaking, the effort clearly taking a toll.

The physical therapy session was truly grueling, but undeniably effective. Hank, who previously couldn't stand at all, was now at least able to stand with the support of his arms, which was quite an achievement.

Finally, Hank finished today's therapy. The therapist helped him back to his bed, checked to ensure there were no physical issues, and then took his leave. Seeing Hank's current progress filled Mary with hope; she even made the unreasonable request for the therapist to stay home for full-day service, which he naturally could not agree to. After seeing him off, Jimmy went into Hank's bedroom.

"How do you feel? Do you have any strength in your legs?"

Hank shrugged, "It's just a bit better. It'll probably be a few more months before I can walk normally."

Jimmy smiled and patted Hank's leg. "As long as there's hope, any effort is worth it. By the way, here's some good news—Jesse Pinkman is definitely suspicious. Steven is already investigating him."

Hank widened his eyes and looked at Jimmy, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening. "What's going on? Who is he investigating?"

Jimmy: "Jesse Pinkman, the kid you beat up. Sorry, Steven asked me to help analyze some data. If your ambush was a conspiracy, then the reason you were suspended, involving Jesse, should be the most important link in that conspiracy. So, yesterday during the day, we did some surveillance and found some clues. Steven is probably still there tracking him."

Hank was silent for a moment and then said, "I need to make a call. Give me a moment."

Jimmy nodded, stood up, left the bedroom, and chatted with Mary in the living room for a while until he heard Hank calling his name. Returning to the bedroom, Hank said, "Thank you, Jimmy."

Jimmy spread his hands. "It was nothing; Steven is the one doing the hard work."

Hank: "Do you have other things to do? If not, you might as well wait; Steven will be coming over shortly."

Jimmy nodded. "My flight is in the afternoon; there's still plenty of time."

Hank raised his hand to stop Jimmy, shouting loudly, "Mary, Mary! Jimmy and Gomez will have lunch here; prepare something."

"OK!" Mary replied from afar in the living room, "I need to go out for a bit."

Hank shrugged at Jimmy. "I hope you don't mind me making the decision for you. Mary can cook quite decently."

Jimmy smiled. "Of course."

Hank: "Now, tell me about your activities yesterday so I can understand what actually happened."

Jimmy didn't embellish, recounting how they were surveilling near Jesse's place when they discovered someone watching from the side, then they were attacked, and how someone stole a bag of money from Jesse's room but ended up being kidnapped. Regardless of how it all looked, yesterday's events suggested there was a significant force targeting Jesse, or possibly protecting him.

Sharing his conclusions and noting that the people apprehended were black, Hank couldn't help but shake his head with a smile. "No, it's not what you're thinking. In Albuquerque, gangs aren't limited by racial or ethnic lines. In fact, there are quite a few white and black members in Mexican gangs, though they might not be in the upper echelons.

Oh, especially street dealers—they come from all walks of life, although there are very few Chinese; we have too few Chinese in the city."

Jimmy: "Alright, maybe it's different here than in New York. But whatever the case, the people you're up against this time far exceed anything you can imagine."

After some more conversation, Jimmy got up to fetch water for Hank. Still, Steven didn't arrive, so Hank shrugged and called Steven again. But as soon as the call connected, he raised his voice, "What did you say?"

He turned to Jimmy. "Wait a minute. Jimmy, Gomez was shot and is in emergency surgery at the hospital."

Jimmy immediately sat upright. "Put it on speaker. What happened?"

The voice on the other end of the phone said, "We spotted someone sneaking behind Jesse's house, and Gomez went to check it out. The person opened fire on him. We chased after the shooter, but they were too quick. Gomez was hit twice and his head hit a wall; he's been taken to the hospital."

Hank: "I understand. Give me the hospital's address."

After hanging up, Hank looked at Jimmy. "Jimmy, please go check on Gomez for me."