The next morning, everyone went out on patrol in pairs. Emily and Danny, Hotchner and Joyner, Hannah and Jiejie, Jack and Rosie, and BAU newcomer Luke Elvis teamed up with Danny's female partner, Jenny.
The basic arrangement was to pair a local or semi-local with a less familiar partner. Of course, strictly speaking, Rosie had lived in New York much longer than Jack.
But who knew how to pair up with either Hannah or Jiejie? Plus, Rosie was barely a public figure. If the enemy was truly targeting the BAU, Jack's presence would at least fill the gap.
Jack's worries were still to come. Jiejie wasn't returning to Los Angeles for now. When he met her at the airport two days ago, Jack had noticed the BAU members had a lot of luggage.
In the past, when the BAU went out, Jack usually had the most luggage, because all the guns, especially the sniper rifles, needed their own storage cases, which took up a lot of space.
The rest of the team typically carried a single travel bag, containing spare clothes and a backup gun for emergencies. Red and Rosie would bring a few extra books, while Emily and Jiejie's bags were slightly larger.
Because women tended to be more attentive to their appearance and carried more clothes, they sometimes used a suitcase instead of a travel bag. Regardless of the suitcase or bag, they were all referred to as an emergency bag.
The BAU also brought some firearms this time. Newcomer Luke Elvis, a skilled weapons expert, replaced Jack as the team's force. However, the luggage was significantly oversized, exceeding the allowance by a third compared to Jack's time.
Most of the luggage was then sent to a penthouse apartment, as it belonged to Jiejie—not an emergency bag, but rather her belongings.
According to Hotchner's arrangement, after this case was concluded, Jiejie was officially seconded to the New York office, or more precisely, to Jack's Most Wanted Unit.
Garcia volunteered to take over some of Jiejie's duties. Encouraged by everyone, the adorable, chubby girl finally gave up her desk job and wanted to join the team on field missions.
She said that waiting anxiously for disturbing news from the front was an ordeal, especially when she heard someone had been attacked or even injured. Her heart broke. This trip to New York was Garcia's first foray into this endeavor.
Jiejie's work would be split into two parts: Garcia would be responsible for sorting through cases from around the country, selecting them, and ultimately handing them off to the BAU, while Hotchner would handle the "diplomat" portion.
Therefore, the dormitory on the second floor of the new office, which someone had hastily renovated, would soon be put to good use. Originally, two women and one man sharing an apartment wouldn't have been a problem, but the relationship between the three parties involved was complicated.
"We haven't even found the killer yet, and the two parties are already arguing fiercely in the newspapers about the death penalty," Rossi sighed, crumpling the newspaper in his hand and throwing it into the trash.
Jack shrugged, remaining silent. He didn't even want to get involved in office politics, let alone politics in general.
"So, you didn't find anything at the scene yesterday?" Rossi glanced at the bustling crowd on the street and changed the subject.
Jack frowned at the question. "Nothing. That's strange. I thought they'd at least leave us a small note or something."
"That doesn't fit the profile." Rossi looked confused, subconsciously smoothing his hair. His thick, dark hair would have been the envy of his peers.
"According to the profile, they should have attempted further contact with us, or perhaps provoked us,"
Jack continued, following his train of thought. "Yes, it stands to reason that their contact would escalate, trying to create panic and satisfy their own psychological needs.
In the case of the 'DC Sniper,' John Muhammad, after leaving behind the 'Death' tarot card, attempted to extort $1 million from the police bank account. Knowing they had no chance of actually using the money, they simply used it to taunt the police.
After contacting the police, 'Son of Sam' wrote to the media, fabricating a horror story, portraying himself as a victim driven by a demon to kill.
This is the origin of the nickname 'Son of Sam.' In fact, the police later discovered that the supposedly possessed Sam was actually his neighbor's dog.
Rossi stared at the street, his gaze lost in thought, muttering, "And our suspects are incredibly organized. They seem to strike at the busiest times of the day, but they actually survey the scene and plan their escape route in advance.
They left a Death Card at the scene, seemingly aiming to create panic, but they haven't contacted the media. Does this seem like a personal vendetta?"
"A personal vendetta against us?" Jack had considered the question, but he'd taken considerable precautions to prevent just such a scenario.
Even if they were to stage a plot-based killing, it had to be logical. It made no sense for the attackers to not investigate the BAU team before striking. Even with a mole providing system access, they couldn't completely circumvent Justin's traps.
However, his analysis did give Jack a thought. "Do you think they're targeting the FBI's New York office?"
Rossi raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Jack bought two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice on the sidewalk and handed one to Rossi. They walked and chatted. "A few days ago, when you took on this case, what was the first thing that came to mind?"
"'Son of Sam,'" Rossi replied.
"When the killer left the 'Death' tarot card at the scene, what did we think of?" Jack continued.
"'DC Sniper,'" Rossi seemed to understand his meaning.
"They are creating one connection after another to try to attract our attention, but is it possible that we are thinking too much? When it comes to hunting serial killers, the first thing we think of is the BAU team, but in the eyes of outsiders, the first thing that comes to mind is the FBI."
Rossi suddenly realized, "So they launched attacks for two consecutive days after the press conference where the FBI announced its involvement. Damn, Dana's mobilization of nearby FBI field agents to come to New York should also be part of their plan."
Jack patted the old man's shoulder to signal him to calm down. "It shouldn't be that simple. The agents are now fully armed and distributed on the streets, and they rest in various places at night. It should not be a collective attack on the field agents. Our puzzle is almost complete, but we are still missing the last piece."
"Are the recent cases in your New York office related to organized gangs or terrorists?" Rossi took out his mobile phone and prepared to make a call.
"No matter what, I'm going to tell Dana to contact the DHS (Department of Homeland Security), the NSA (National Security Agency), and the CIA to screen for any recent domestic terrorist threats."
Jack frowned, thinking for a long time. He couldn't think of any recent cases he'd handled that were connected to terrorist organizations. Anthony Vargas's Durango drug cartel had indeed been rumored to have financial ties to some domestic terrorist organizations.
But he'd recently been transferred to what was considered the nation's highest-security prison in Colorado. NSA intelligence revealed that nearly $10 million in Durango cartel funds were missing.
Fearing they might repeat their tactics and make bomb threats in New York, the case had been formally referred to the FBI's parent agency, the DOJ (Department of Justice).
So, theoretically, simply threatening the FBI was useless, but Jack dismissed that speculation for the time being.
With FBI agents already deployed on the streets, what would the other party do next? Just as Jack was mentally pondering their motives, Garcia's call came through his wireless headset.
"Jack, are you there? The killer has reappeared. He just shot a woman in front of an ATM at the intersection of Broadway and 16th Street. He's running east and is now on 16th Street."
Jack grabbed Rossi and rushed to the Dodge Hellcat parked on the side of the road. "Who's around there?"
"It's Emily and Detective Reagan. The killer ran right in their direction!" Garcia's anxious voice was almost tearful.
"I'll be there in five minutes!" Jack sounded the siren and, without waiting for Rossi to fasten her seatbelt, floored the accelerator. The tires screeched and scraped against the road, sending up a puff of smoke.
(End of chapter)