Detective

It was a November night in the great city of New York. The sky was almost clear, allowing the moon to illuminate the rooftops of buildings less lit than the rest of the city. In the southern part of Brooklyn, on a quiet street, stood a private detective agency. Jeffrey was one of the private detectives at this agency, and despite his young age compared to his colleagues, they had to admit that Jeffrey was an exceptional detective. That evening, a man dressed rather formally approached the detective. The man placed his card, marked "Secret Service," on the floor and declared, " Mr. Jeffrey Breault, we have a request for you. " Jeffrey was wary; the government did not usually seek the help of private detectives. "Our president has noticed your incredible investigative skills, and he wishes to ask you to solve a mystery that puts our head of state himself in danger. Of course, this is top secret. Do not, under any circumstances, tell anyone."
An assassin has recently begun killing politicians around the world. Our president's safety is at risk. Find this killer and his organization, if he has one, and stop him. All the necessary tools will be at your disposal, and you will exceptionally be allowed to use less-than-legal methods. Jeffrey was shocked but also intrigued; after all, what detective wouldn't want to solve a seemingly impossible case like this?