He wore a cap and a black hoody with a bag which possessed no characteristic at all. His face is clean; handsome and with no mustache, which gives people a perception of elegant, and placid. An earphone extended from his jeans, around his neck, then went under his hoodie. His muddy shoes were making faint metal collision sounds as they rub on E17th Street in the State of Kansas.
"He has been here before, the mud on his shoes is the same as the samples we collected," Ethan whispered, then pressed a button on his phone which directly transmitted a secret code to the FBI. As Herman was some distance away from us, he suddenly pushed a .45 ACP into his pistol then uttered with an irresistible desire and excitement: "Let's go face our rival."
We exited the car, then started advancing to the cafe, with about a hundred meters behind Herman. His velocity increased in a sudden as we both walking towards the same destination. Clearly, he dislikes to be tagged, and that confirmed the authentic identity of Herman. The moment he entered that cafe, Ethan phoned our FBI agent-Kacie, requested to initiate the "game on" mode.
There weren’t many customers in the cafe, probably because it was late. The lights were bright, the furniture was new, and the music was jazzy. We sat in the darkest and dimmest corner where we could see Herman through to mirror on the corridor and ordered two blue mountains with two brownies; whereas Herman ordered a Cappuccino with minced chocolate on it. He opened his laptop and started taking notes.
Herman has been on his laptop for nearly an hour. Just before we are about to take any action, he rose, then hastily ran into the toilet with the appearance of a stomach. His laptop was left outside by his unfinished Cappuccino but not his note, which made me extremely curious; but because of the risk of the exposure of our identity, we chose to bide Herman's time, arrest him immediately when he walked out that door.
The time passed slower and slower as our heart became heavier and heavier. When all the patients were gone, and the anxieties took over, we unbearably hastened into the toilet, saw the scene of a nightmare - The corner of the fifth compartment was gone, substituted by a narrow tunnel which Herman could perfectly fit in, but for him only. We tried to find any evidence around the hole, but the darkness from the depth of the tunnel engulfed us like butterflies on the web, struggling hard but still useless. We have never failed so badly, never felt so hopeless and never been so angry before. He is remarkably smart, smart enough to be scary. I have to admit that we have lost completely this time, even Ethan started to question the chance about bringing that man into the jail. We commanded five FBI Agents to track the origin of that tunnel; then walked out of the cafe on to the street with sadnesses and anger written on the face; frustration and disappointment in the same breath.
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