Although it was noon, there were not many people on Wall Street, and the few restaurants were all empty.
Vincent and Hermione had not gone far when they heard urgent police sirens behind them.
An old Ford pickup truck roared past them, followed closely by four police cars.
"Uh..." Hermione was a little bewildered.
She had heard that New York was chaotic, but she had not expected it to be this chaotic.
Vincent could barely hold it together. "Even low-probability emergencies keep happening to us. That proves our luck is pretty good."
No sooner had he spoken than the Ford pickup turned onto Broadway.
Bang—bang— Familiar gunshots rang out, just like the ones on Fifth Avenue earlier.
Vincent was completely speechless.
They had chased it from Fifth Avenue to Broadway. The New York police were apparently about as efficient as the British Ministry of Magic.
Hermione suddenly patted his shoulder and leaned close to his ear. "With things getting this big, won't the Magical Congress get involved?"
Ordinary Muggle criminals did not warrant that, unless they were dangerous enough that even the New York police could not handle them.
And even if the Magical Congress did get involved, they would certainly turn a blind eye to Vincent.
After all, Viktor D. Brad, head of the Succession Society's American branch, had successfully infiltrated the upper ranks of the Magical Congress by disguising himself as Bradley Graves, Head of the Auror Office.
Intense gunfire erupted again. The situation over on Broadway did not look good.
Thump-thump— A low-flying police helicopter passed overhead.
Even a helicopter had been deployed. It really did seem to be a dangerous opponent.
Vincent gently patted Hermione's small hand, which was tightly wrapped around his arm. "I'm not wanted by the Magical Congress. At worst, they'll deport me."