Police in Los Angeles

Thinking about Carrie and John's impending good news, Jack also thought about Zoe and Maureen's wedding. On their last date, the two ladies had hinted repeatedly that they wanted a special wedding gift. How special is special? Could he package himself into a gift box? These little romantic gestures between couples were the most mentally taxing. Although Jack wasn't exactly a stereotypical straight man, he didn't have many brain cells dedicated to this area either.

Rubbing his head in frustration, he took the elevator to the fifth floor and found Hotchner. His wife, Haley, had finished her checkup, and her condition was good. She would be discharged the next day after staying for observation overnight.

Jack handed him a small box of snacks. "This is... um... my homemade tiramisu."

Hotchner looked puzzled at the cool dessert sprinkled with vanilla powder and osmanthus, clearly confused.

"I used lotus root powder as the base. It's sweet, but even pregnant women worried about blood sugar can enjoy it."

Seeing Hotchner's wide-eyed, bewildered look, Jack spent a few minutes explaining what lotus root was and why lotus root powder was delicious and nutritious. With Hotchner still looking half-comprehending, Jack resorted to his trump card: telling him to consult the "encyclopedia" Dr. Reid later.

Although many ingredients could now be bought at Asian supermarkets, Americans, who couldn't even properly enjoy bamboo shoots, wouldn't understand lotus root. As a person from the Jiangnan region, red water chestnuts, lotus seeds, and gorgon fruit were unforgettable childhood delicacies.

The two then chatted as they left the hospital, eventually heading to a nearby Starbucks.

Hotchner was very curious about Jack's experiences, especially the impressive shooting skills he had displayed at the range, which made Hotchner, who prided himself on his marksmanship, feel inferior. Jack didn't know how much Rossi had told him, only that Hotchner, though originally a prosecutor, had joined the FBI early on. He had worked under Rossi for a while, then with FBI SWAT and the Seattle FBI Operations Office.

So Jack picked a few LAPD cases to talk about. Fortunately, both of them were old hands, and within half a cup of coffee, they had a clear understanding of each other's roles in the BAU.

The Starbucks next to the hospital was located at the bottom of a mall. It was early afternoon, and the parking lot was full of various pickup trucks and SUVs. Americans loved to take their families shopping on weekends, buying a week's or even two weeks' worth of food.

Thinking about his date with the two ladies that evening, Jack didn't plan to delve too deeply into conversation with the BAU supervisor. Doing someone a favor was one thing, but getting too cozy right away might seem like flattery.

Making an excuse about needing to water his plants at home, Jack quickly said goodbye to Hotchner. Holding his half-finished cup of coffee in his left hand, he had just stepped out of the Starbucks automatic doors when a gunshot rang out. Fifty to sixty meters away, a large glass window on the mall's ground floor shattered.

Startled, he ducked, pulled out his Glock from his waist, and used the nearest SUV's hood as cover.

Then the gunfire erupted.

"Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat."

The continuous bursts of an automatic rifle were unmistakable. Soon, the mall entrance, which had been bustling with people, turned into chaos as the crowd began to pour out.

Seeing elderly, weak, and children being knocked over and trampled by the panicked crowd, Jack felt his scalp tingle, and adrenaline began to surge.

The sound of crying and screaming blended together. Some quick-witted people had already started their vehicles, trying to leave this dangerous place as quickly as possible amidst the screeching of tires.

"What's happening?" Hotchner rushed out of the coffee shop, also drawing his gun, nervously leaning beside Jack and looking towards the mall entrance.

"I don't know. It sounds like an AR-15 with a modified stock. The shooter should be on the first floor of the mall, but we can't see from here."

Jack spoke while observing the surroundings.

By now, the crowd fleeing the mall had scattered. Some who had fallen or were too frightened to move were crouching with their heads covered or lying on the ground, shielding their heads with their arms.

One had to admit, when it came to responding to shootings, Americans had very standard first reactions.

Jack crouched and ran a few steps, moving to another SUV's hood. From this angle, he could see the mall entrance more clearly. A figure in full Kevlar gear and a tan tactical vest appeared behind the door.

This guy also had a Level 4 ballistic helmet on his head, a Benelli M4 shotgun slung on his back, and an AR-15 in his right hand. At this moment, he was using his left-hand pistol to finish off the wounded on the ground.

Trouble, Jack thought, glancing at his Glock 22, which seemed like a squirt gun compared to the heavily armed guy.

Hotchner had finished calling the police and crouched down to join Jack. After peeking inside the mall, his face turned grim.

"Bang, bang," the shooter finished off the moaning wounded on the ground, then discarded the empty pistol. While reloading his AR-15, he started walking towards the entrance, seemingly targeting the nearby people.

"Cover me." Seeing the guy about to start another killing spree, Jack couldn't hesitate anymore. He handed his Glock to Hotchner.

"What are you going to do?" Hotchner instinctively took Jack's pistol, confused.

Jack pulled out his FK 7.5 from under his arm and showed it to him. "Distract him, give me a second."

Hotchner swallowed, his voice dry. "Are you sure?"

"Not sure. Do you have a better idea?" Jack wasn't confident either. Master-level pistol shooting only added precision, not armor-piercing or damage.

"Don't push it, just distract him."

Thinking about his future superior's wife, who was still heavily pregnant in the hospital, Jack felt a bit panicked and gave one more warning.

This FLAG didn't look good. He didn't want to change supervisors just after joining the BAU. Although he remembered Hotchner being a regular character in "Criminal Minds," this sudden situation didn't seem like the original plot.

Jack crouched and ran a few steps to the right front, hiding behind a pickup truck. He was now the closest to the mall entrance, about thirty to forty meters away, with Hotchner to his left rear. The two formed a roughly 30-degree angle, facing the shooter who had just walked out of the mall entrance.

"Your cup!"

Hearing Hotchner's reminder, Jack realized he was still holding the half cup of coffee in his left hand unconsciously.

Damn, today was definitely a setup, Jack thought, his eye twitching slightly. He pretended to be calm, smiled at Hotchner, put down the disposable cup, and made an OK gesture before switching to a two-handed grip on his gun.

Hotchner almost bit his lip, hesitated for a moment, and seeing the shooter aiming at a middle-aged woman protecting her child, he shouted angrily.

"FXXK YOU, FBI!"

At the same time, he rested both arms on the SUV's hood and simultaneously pulled the triggers of the two Glocks in his hands.

"Bang bang bang bang bang."

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