Paul nodded, looking at Jimmy with a slightly odd expression in his eyes, but he didn't say anything else and waved his hand for others to start examining the body.

Jimmy: "Our protection target, Big Chin, is in the room on the third floor. I had him lie on the floor so that it would minimize the possibility of him being sniped from outside. Everything is still normal."

Paul pointed towards the stairs, and two people armed with guns went up. Indeed, it was a tight-knit team; a mere gesture was enough, and his men understood his intentions, an understanding truly enviable.

As Jimmy stood next to Paul, he smelled the faint scent of gunpowder that had burnt recently. They had fired not long ago. It seemed the Court Police here were quite busy, likely having just completed a task elsewhere and flown directly to New York without changing equipment. This also roughly explained why Charles was sent to the hospital and no immediate support was provided to Jimmy, who was only informed that someone would take over the next morning.

The United States Federation Court Police, who have national law enforcement authority, number just over 3,000, far fewer compared to the 10,000-plus law enforcement agents of the FBI. Thus, the distribution of Federation Court Police personnel across the states is limited, often opting to collaborate with local law enforcement agencies. It's typical for New York to have numerous federal-level cases, and a shortage in manpower distribution is normal, but it was unexpected that the gap was so severe that support had to be summoned from William F. Deegan Tactical Operations Center in Louisiana.

The Federal Court Police office in New York does have an SRT, a part-time SWAT-like team, and the support team outside is just such a group. The difference between them and the SOG, which is under the Federation Court Police and responsible for nationwide support, is that the SRT is organized locally from local Court Police members as a part-time squad.

Paul and his team began to inspect the villa comprehensively, getting familiar with the environment. Jimmy hadn't rested yet; he had to wait until they were familiar with the surroundings and confirmed there were no issues before handing over the duties.

Half an hour later, Paul and his team met in the hall and assigned their tasks. The medic was sent to the third floor, adequately staffed this time, so he would stand guard outside Big Chin's room as the last line of defense. Two others, carrying rifles, went to the second floor to monitor the surroundings; their rifles were equipped with night vision for better observation. Paul and two others took positions on the first floor.

Jimmy: "Paul, are you guys set up?"

Paul nodded: "No problem, we'll handle it. You can go and rest now. Tough job you've done. I heard from Charles that you've been on for over 12 hours?"

Jimmy: "It's nothing. I'm going to rest on the second floor now. Wake me if anything happens. Oh, and remember to turn off the lights. Charles was shot straight through the leg from outside. This time's enemy is no ordinary one. I suspect it's a professional assassin."

Paul nodded, and Jimmy, carrying his bag, went upstairs, still opting to lie on the floor. It was too dangerous on the bed. By lying on the ground beside the bed, he could avoid being seen from outside.

However, falling asleep wasn't so easy. Just before dawn, Jimmy heard the rapid burst of rifle shots. He turned his head to see a person writhing on the ground, just two or three meters from the back door of the villa, an unlucky soul.

The occasional gunfire significantly deteriorated Jimmy's sleep quality. He wasn't heartless; in such an environment, he would wake up at every gunshot until dawn when he finally felt safe enough to fall asleep, sleeping through till noon.

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