When Jimmy got back to the office, he imdiately started looking into the bureau's training policies, but after searching, he found that most of it was related to Quantico's training policies, which, as a Senior Agent, were recomnded by the bureau for enhancing so professional skills at Quantico. However, it was of little use to him.
What he wanted was to improve his academic qualifications to gain leverage for future promotions, but Quantico didn't issue academic certificates. Besides, he had pretty good grades back then and was even an instructor for a while, so even professional skills training from the academy offered little improvent for him.
The bureau indeed had so training policies, mainly aid at technical and intelligence personnel, focusing on computer, network, architecture, and other professional courses to enhance the capabilities of technical and intelligence personnel. As a field agent, he simply couldn't apply due to insufficient qualifications. Original content can be found at NoveI(F)ire
After searching for half a day, he ultimately had to give up. Coming across a suitable policy like this was sothing that depended on fate.
He flipped through the events schedule in the office and found that there didn't seem to be any related activities for a while. However, this wasn't a big issue; if needed, he could have a chat with Mrs. Mason. As long as it didn't interfere with other office activities, organizing a collaboration with specific schools wasn't that big of a problem.
After two or three days of investigating, he'd gone through the headquarters and office policies more than once and ultimately had to give up, unable to find a good solution.
By the weekend, Jimmy arrived at the bar early and went straight to Woody, "Woody, did the drinks I ordered arrive?"
Woody: "Yeah, but it's not the gin you wanted. Your standards are really high. Want to bring it out now?"
Jimmy nodded, "Let take a look first."
Woody left the bar and headed to the back warehouse. After a while, he ca out carrying two boxes, "Macallan Sherry Barrel 30 Years, want to open it now?"
Jimmy shook his head, "The guests haven't arrived yet, no rush. Where did you manage to get it from? Any chance of a 40-year?"
Woody looked at Jimmy speechlessly, "I can manage to get so drinks, but aren't your expectations a bit too high? 40-year? Even getting these two 30-year bottles wasn't easy; the 40-year ones are sitting in soone else's collection."
Jimmy shrugged, "You're the expert, never mind if you can't get it. Is there an open 18-year? I'll have a glass."
As Jimmy was about to walk to the small room with the two boxes, another person sitting at the bar suddenly spoke up, "Hey, guys, wait a minute, is there any more at the store? Macallan 30."
Woody turned to look at the custor, "Sorry, the boss specially ordered these for personal use, we don't have the 30-year for sale."
The middle-aged man shrugged, "That's too bad, seeing it but not being able to drink it, it's a bit frustrating."
Jimmy: "Sorry, these bottles are for sothing else, but you can try sothing else. Woody's mixing skills are definitely not inferior to those so-called champion bartenders, you should give it a shot. Woody."
After saying that, Jimmy carried the drinks into the small room, then returned to the bar, picked up the Macallan 18 that Woody poured, and took a sip while waiting for the bosses to arrive.
The middle-aged man did not leave, remained at the bar, took out his wallet and a piece of paper, pressing it on the table, "Buddy, I'll have an 18 too."
Woody glanced at Jimmy, took out his bottle, and poured it into a glass with ice cubes, "Here's your Macallan."
The middle-aged man clinked glasses with Jimmy, "To our shared taste."
Jimmy: "Sa here, cheers."
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