Chapter 4

The market opens earlier than almost anything in this world because the market is a place to look for anything, especially food that must be fresh when sold, or the price can drop drastically. Usually, the markets close earlier than almost anything else in the world; most markets don't open twenty-four hours, either. 

So Jefferson decided to leave his home early. But unfortunately, he only found a middle-aged woman who was shopping for their groceries on the third floor. While on the first and second floors were empty, only a few people were seen opening their shops while yawning and even Jefferson saw someone sleeping on a wooden table.

Jefferson also found The Coffee Cup, but it was still sleeping. And it seemed that no matter how hard Jefferson tried to wake it up, it wouldn't wake up.

But Jefferson decided to stay inside the market; he walked the hall and memorized the layout of this place. Not without purpose, Jefferson wanted to know the place he was going to investigate; he'll make sure he remembered them all. Jefferson always did this before starting any investigation anywhere. He knew this job was risky, and he had to be alert every second; doing something that looked useless and looked like he just wasted time but could reduce the risk, Jefferson would do that.

This market is spacious and has fourth floors, and the fourth floor is used as a parking area and a place for trucks carrying food ingredients to unload their cargo. This makes it easier for workers because they only need to go down one stair and go straight to the sellers who fill every corner of the third floor.

On the second floor, there are stalls of sellers, there are no shops open yet, but after noon, Jefferson could see sellers of clothes, shoes, household appliances, and food on this floor. Food vendors are lined up in a row as if to form a canteen. In front of it, there are stairs leading to the first floor.

While on the first floor, there is The Coffee Cup and various shops, which are more varied than on other floors. Jefferson could find anything, from clothes sellers, curtain sellers, tailors, watchmakers, jewelry stores, stationery stores, and cosmetic shops; he even saw a fortune teller shop popping up among other shops. The eccentric decor drew Jefferson's attention, especially the dark black curtains with flickering glitter and purple lights beneath.

After looking around, he returned to The Coffee Cup, and luckily the shop was awake. The cafe is the last one to open, and the owner is a lovely old man who doesn't talk much; his name is Mr. Brooke. He lives alone because his wife died years ago while his children went to another city and lived there because of their work. Although his children send some money once a month, Mr. Brooke still decides to work because he is bored at home alone.

Although this place was used as a gathering place for agents, Mr. Brooke is not part of the police force. He has no idea that the police officer uses his cafe as a place to meet.

This place was chosen because it is in the middle of the market. Close to the stairs, you can easily access the exit door in case there is an urgent situation, and you have to run outside. It is also the nearest exit if you want to exit the market area; you can run to the highway and disguise if, by chance, the road is busy; it's perfect. 

So the conclusion is that Mr. Brooke's cafe was their safe zone. 

Jefferson was his first customer. Mr. Brooke greeted Jefferson with a smile and handed him the menu.

Besides him, there was a young man named Dex. He is a full-time worker at Mr. Brooke's cafe; he'd only been working for a month. From the look on his face that was flat and cold, it was like telling everyone who saw him that he didn't like working in that place. He looks lazy; when Mr. Brooke tells him to take Jefferson's order, he doesn't even smile at him.

Looks like the guy needs to open a new job vacancy.

Jefferson ordered coffee because he needed support from caffeine's delicious, sweet smell, not because it would make him up. Unfortunately, because of his addiction to coffee, he needs a high dose of caffeine to keep him from falling asleep. Jefferson never knew how much he needed, but so far, he had drunk four glasses and was still feeling sleepy, and Jefferson had never dared to try more than that.

As soon as his coffee arrived, Jefferson took out a notebook and pencil; he drew this market layout to help him memorize faster. He grouped the market areas according to what they sold; fruit area, vegetable area, fish area, clothes area, tailor area, and so on.

Someone tapped Jefferson on the shoulder when he was confused about mapping the first floor because the area was more diverse. Jefferson raised his head and looked back.

There were three men there, he didn't know them, but his feeling was telling him they knew something. Jefferson smiled at them, his eyes curled behind his middle-parted bangs.

"Is there any problem?" Jefferson asked.

A man sitting behind Jefferson leaned over, making Jefferson curious and come closer. The man's eyes kept darting around as if to make sure no one was looking at them, nor were the two men sitting across the table looking in another direction.

"Did Mr. Tucker send you here?" the man whispered.

Mr. Tucker had sent a message the night before. He said later at The Coffee Cup, someone would ask him if Mr. Tucker sent him to this place. He tells Jefferson to avoid these people because they are members of another mafia.

Of course, other agents would not ask such a question. It's not elegant. Jefferson couldn't believe it. Was that what they called an investigation? It's sucks and ugly. 

"Jefferson?"

Jefferson turned his head to find another man standing right in front of him. He was wearing basketball shorts and a shirt; Jefferson noticed he was carrying a transparent bag containing basketballs.

Their attention immediately turned to the basketball shirt man. At the same time, Jefferson squinted his eyes; he smiled awkwardly as if he was embarrassed because he couldn't remember the person's name when he did.

"Willie?"

"Oh, come on, man!"

"Luke?"

"I hate you."

"Oh, Roman, right?"

"I regret greeting you."

The basketball shirt man's face looked disappointed; he groaned and sat in front of Jefferson without asking him for permission. The man turned his back to call Mr. Brooke.

Mr. Tucker also told him this last night; he said the real agent would greet you as if you and he were best friends. Mr. Tucker had sent him the agents' identities; although Jefferson remembered their faces, acting like he forgot his name would make Jefferson less anxious and look convincing enough.

"Mr. Brooke, you know my favorite."

"Of course, Troy."

"Yeah, I'm Troy." 

Troy glanced at Jefferson with a piercing glare and suppressed his voice as he said his own name as if it were a threat, just in case Jefferson forgot his name again.

"Oh my God, Troy, my dearest friend!" Jefferson exclaimed, which only made Troy 'hate' him even more.

Jefferson looked back at the three men; his eyes were wide, and he looked innocent. "I'm sorry because I am greeting my friend. What do you mean by Mr. Tucker sending me? Whose is Mr. Tucker?"

Jefferson's question to the three strangers made Troy gasp; now, Troy was staring at him intently. All agents must know about other mafia members who are trying to find the presence of the police in this market.

"Ah, it's nothing. I'm sorry, I think I have mistaken you as someone else," he said, looking down and turning around without waiting for Jefferson to respond.

"It's okay."

Jefferson turned around, his smile fading and his face turning pale. He looked at Troy with a serious look. Even though they had just met, Troy knew what Jefferson was thinking.

"It's been a long time Troy. How are you?"

"Oh man, I feel great. Even if you tell me to go around this market, I can go around it a thousand times."

Jefferson laughed. "Instead of telling you to go around this market a thousand times, how about you flirting with the woman in the blue shirt there? You can start by asking for their name and where they are from."

Not far from where they were, there was a woman in a blue shirt standing in front of a clothes shop, but she was not the one Jefferson was talking about, his eyes looked to the side, and his head tilted back, it coincidentally that one of that three-man was wearing a blue t-shirt.

Troy knew what he meant; Jefferson wanted information about them.

"You are crazy!" Troy exclaimed as he looked back at the woman in the blue shirt. "You always telling me to flirt with people I don't know at all."

Troy didn't know who they were. Jefferson was a little disappointed, but he quickly talked about something else. He asked where the other agents were by mentioning their names and asking how they were now as if they were old friends who accidentally met at a cafe.

Jefferson got a little glimpse of the other agents. It turned out that none of them came as early as Jefferson; Troy had finished exercising in the field located about three hundred meters from this market. Troy even had time to go to his office and take care of a few things before heading out onto the field to pretend he wanted to do a morning workout. After lunch, he'd be back in the office to report a few things, including his meeting with Jefferson.

"Oh yeah, I just got a text from Jaxson that he and Andrew are around here, and he said he'd be stopping by the market for lunch."

"I'm tired. I want to go home," Jefferson complained.

"Jaxon and Andrew will be arriving around twelve o'clock in the afternoon, and I told them you'll wait for them because you still stay in the market until four o'clock." 

Jefferson pretended to be annoyed; he raised his hand as if to punch Troy. In fact, Jefferson was grateful that he had a reason to spend the day at this market. Unexpectedly Troy helped him; he had been frustrated thinking about what else he could do in this market until four o'clock in the afternoon without anyone suspecting him.

"I don't like you, Troy."

"No problem, Jefferson," Troy said as if he could read Jefferson's mind.