Jimmy drove his Suburban directly to the Anti-Terrorism Bureau and inquired with Caitlin's assistant, only to learn that Caitlin hadn't returned and was still at Langley.

Jimmy left the Anti-Terrorism Bureau with a frown and drove back to the FBI office. What is Caitlin up to? She hasn't been back for days, and this case should have ended long ago, right?

Moreover, the discovery of the spy was by the DIA, and the CIA only coordinated with their investigation into the embassy and consulate matters, as well as the final capture, mostly dealing with the periphery. The genuinely lost intelligence requires the DIA to access and investigate, and Caitlin is the responsible party for the case on the CIA's end, so it's impossible for her to intervene in DIA matters.

Jimmy could only wait. Calling Caitlin now would be problematic; taking the initiative would nullify the stance he expressed previously. He had to endure for a bit longer, at least until she returned.

Just before finishing up for the day, Jimmy received another text from Tom. He had already arrived in New York, waiting for Jimmy to call when he had time.

Jimmy didn't make a call but sent over the bar's address, arranging a meeting time for the evening.

After work, Jimmy had dinner and went directly to the bar. Since it was still early, he visited the office inside to briefly review the financial status there.

The bar manager was still Diego Isaac. After his previous divorce, he was in quite a bad state, but it had been a long time, and he seemed normal now.

The daily financials didn't vary much, and Jimmy didn't pay much attention. The bar was now operating on a self-sufficient basis and might give Jimmy a bit of pocket money annually, which was fine with him—he didn't have high demands.

As it was almost time, Jimmy went to the bar, had Woody bring a bottle of Whiskey and two glasses to a corner table, and then ordered a plate of salty peanuts and some crackers as snacks to go with the drinks.

Tom was very punctual. Upon entering the bar, he looked around and soon found Jimmy, heading directly over to sit opposite him. Tom's appearance had indeed changed; he now looked like a bald old man and clearly planned to keep a beard, which appeared somewhat unruly now but might look better once it was properly trimmed and groomed.

Jimmy poured a glass of whiskey for Tom, "Tom, you're looking good. How's retired life treating you?"

Tom took a sip from his glass, "It's alright. At least Florida's weather is much better than New York's."

Jimmy: "Have you considered contacting James?"

Tom nodded: "I'll be staying for a while this time, waiting for his return."

Jimmy: "Have you settled your retirement identity?"

Tom nodded: "Thomas Roberts, a small farmer from Orlando, Florida, mainly cultivating tomatoes, sweet corn, strawberries, etc. Remember that, so you won't get it wrong later."

Jimmy: "Got it. How big is the area?"

Tom casually tossed some peanuts into his mouth, "150 acres, not big, but just right for retirement life. You said you had some other business, what's that about?"

Jimmy: "Greg and Rick are already sorted out; you're aware, right?"

Tom nodded. Jimmy continued, "Things have wrapped up over there, but now some new trouble has come up." Jimmy looked around; the bar was quite busy. After thinking for a bit, he said, "Let's talk inside."

Jimmy motioned for a server to clear the table and take everything to the office at the back. He and Tom went to the office, temporarily kicking Isaac out to have a drink while his own office was commandeered.

Once on the sofa, Jimmy said, "I mentioned before, I want to shed my CIA identity, back when we were in Dallas. But now, the supervisor Katherine Prado says she can't approve my retirement; she doesn't have the authority. We agreed on putting me in dormancy again and to help her with private matters if necessary.

But recently, she broke our arrangement. She took me to Langley without prior notice and brought me directly into a secure meeting room to engage in a DIA-led espionage case.

Last week, the spy got captured in New York, but I'm sure my involvement will now be officially recorded, which complicates things. Leaving CIA is increasingly out of reach."

Jimmy sighed, took a drink from his glass, "Do you have any solutions? I truly dislike the CIA's style. The FBI suits my life much better."

Tom remained silently thinking while holding his glass. Jimmy didn't rush him; the matter was genuinely troublesome, and Jimmy couldn't figure out how to handle it.

A long time passed while Tom drank all his whiskey. Jimmy refilled his glass, prompting Tom to speak, "Is your goal to leave the CIA or to leave without impacting your FBI role?"

Jimmy: "The bottom line is to leave the CIA, ideally without affecting my current job."

Tom: "Why, really? I mean the real reason, not subjective likes or dislikes."

Jimmy gazed at his glass, "I'm happy at the FBI, like in Little Rock. People care for and look after me. Due to previous attacks targeting me, they discovered my dual identity. No one explicitly brought it up, but it troubled them greatly. Nobody likes having a double agent in their department.

I wish to continue my current life and not have those around me saddened or hurt by my identity."

With utter certainty, Tom replied, "Looks like you've found a second James."

Jimmy nodded, still fixated on his glass, "Yes. And I have a fiancée now. She's a cop, and I don't want her finding out her husband leads a double life."

Jimmy finished his drink, poured another, looked up at Tom, "There's something else, though it may be rude... I'd like to ask if I can fully assume this identity, including familial relations. You know I'm about to start my own family. People need roots, and I want this identity to be more complete."

Tom: "You're aware of how sensitive your identity is, right? I told you before."

Jimmy nodded, "This identity's mother is an illegitimate child, father unknown. But at least it spares me from telling others I was an orphan with no background."

Tom: "No, you don't understand. Your mother is the CIA's head of Europe and Asia, your grandfather is the deputy director of the DIA, and your father's identity is completely unknown. Publicly revealing these ties normally would straight up end your FBI career path."

Jimmy: "It sounds better than what I've been saying, an orphan joining the CIA and joining the FBI later. Such a double agent wouldn't last here, and some have guessed my identity. They won't promote me, and might make me stay in the Ministry of Internal Affairs until retirement, or even push me into forced resignation later."

Tom: "Are you sure that's what you want? Fully assuming the current identity affects many, and the sole person who can vouch for your identity holds a very sensitive one, I'm not confident."

Jimmy: "I'm sure. Like trees, people need roots to grow, even if the roots are a bit dirty."

Tom: "I investigated you. You were just a wanderer before joining the police."

Jimmy: "Yes, I don't deny it. I accepted this identity to not return to a vagrant's life. But now, I'm Jimmy Yang, and I want to be the real Jimmy Yang."

Tom rubbed his bald head, grabbed his whiskey, downed it in one go, "I see. Since I caused this, let me end it."

Tom set his glass down, readying to leave.

Jimmy stood up as well, "The bar's mine, stay longer if you can."

Tom: "Don't worry about me; I'll let you know if I hear anything."

Jimmy: "You're sticking with your current identity and phone number, right?"

Tom nodded, "This identity is safe, no problem."

The two returned to the bar's main hall. Jimmy bid Tom farewell. Tom left the bar while Jimmy found Isaac to discuss some bar matters before finally heading back to his apartment.