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"I wish you success." Jack felt relieved when he saw that he had successfully diverted all of Ron's attention to the drug gang. This way, he wouldn't cause any more trouble for O'Connor's mission, right?
He did succeed. Ron's attention was successfully attracted by the mysterious big drug dealer. It was like harvesting crops. On one side were the small seedlings that had just sprouted green shoots; and on the other side were the fields that had already matured. Anyone who wasn't stupid would know which side to harvest first.
Of course, Ron didn't give up the idea of the seedling he had set his sights on at the beginning. They were all crops, so it would be better to harvest them in turns.
"So, what is the evidence of the existence of this big drug lord? How do I know that he isn't a fictional character that you deliberately made up to deceive me?" Ron licked his lips. He was the kind of person who wouldn't give up until he saw concrete proof.
"Look at this," Jack pulled out another small bag of powder sample from his desk drawer and threw it in front of Ron. "This is the most popular drug sold locally with a purity of 90.45%. Except for here in California, you can buy drugs of this purity everywhere else in the country. It's exactly the same, without any difference.
You have to understand that drug labs are not like assembly lines in factories. They don't have unified drug production standards. Everything depends on the process used by the drug maker. Sometimes, the drugs produced by the same laboratory and the same drug maker will have slight differences in purity."
Ron nodded. He understood this principle. "So, you mean to say that drugs of this purity bought elsewhere all come from the same dealer? But how can you prove that this dealer is in Los Angeles and not somewhere else? For example, New Mexico."
New Mexico is adjacent to Mexico and has always been the front line of the DEA's drug enforcement work. Due to NAFTA and other trade policies, the agriculture and industry there have been basically undermined by free trade agreements, leaving the locals to rely mainly on growing various drug crops and then smuggling them back to the United States.
As a result, the United States has to spend billions of dollars annually on drug control. Even Ron, with his wit, couldn't figure out who was losing the most in this deal.
Jack chuckled. "It seems you still don't understand the drug industry well enough. The drugs coming from New Mexico are traditional drugs, like marijuana and heroin, which can be extracted directly from plants. This stuff is a new type of methamphetamine.
We've investigated before, and every shipment starts in Los Angeles. Then, the drug's purity spreads across the country based on distance. That's why we're certain this guy is in Los Angeles, and he must have a skilled drug manufacturer.
The quality of his shipments is always consistent, with a purity consistently between 90.41% and 90.52%. Before him, the best methamphetamine on the market was only around 85% pure."
Ron listened to Jack's well-reasoned analysis while casually flipping through the FBI files. He was sure that what Jack said was basically true. It seemed he had really stumbled upon a big fish.
Ron exclaimed, "It seems this guy has a very sophisticated national logistics network. That's impressive. Does he have a code name here?"
"Of course we do. Our people like to call him 'Fried Chicken Brother.'"
"Fried Chicken Brother?" Ron pondered. The name didn't sound like a code name for a drug lord at all. It sounded more like the name of a restaurant. He'd heard it before. Yes, from Mr. Tosi. It seemed to be the name of his restaurant chain's biggest competitor. Mr. Tosi had just expanded his chain across California, while Fried Chicken Brother had already opened branches in every state.
"Is it because he's in every state that we use him as an analogy? What a brilliant idea!" Ron exclaimed sincerely.
"Yes, that's right. One of my men, nicknamed 'Turtle,' came up with it while eating Fried Chicken Brother's takeout. It's quite fitting, isn't it?"
"That's fantastic. Honestly, I'd love to meet him. He must be a very interesting person."
"I'm afraid I'll disappoint you. I recently sent him undercover with the drug traffickers in New Mexico. I'll connect you to him when he returns. So, is this enough intel?" Jack asked quickly, seeing Ron, like a hungry predator, finally satisfied.
"Of course it is," Ron said, standing up to leave, but after taking two steps, he turned back. "By the way, tell me the name of the young artist who did that portrait. I want to talk to him."
...
At the diner where Max works, she ran into a little trouble today.
"Wait, did you scare off Paulina? Promise me you won't hire any more people, okay? I'll be doing all the work anyway, so let me earn an extra salary to help support the family." Max, having received word that another waitress had quit, asked her boss for a raise.
The short boss said seriously, "No, you need help."
"No," Max protested.
"Everyone needs help," Han Lee held up a finger, trying to reason with Max.
"I don't need it. I've been a waitress all my life, working in restaurants and bars."
"I've already hired someone new. She used to work at a top restaurant in Beverly Hills. I gave her Paulina's uniform." Han Lee spread his hands. Caroline walked out of the employee break room, holding the uniform between two fingers with a look of disgust.
"Hey, Mr. Lee, I think this uniform looks like it's been worn by someone, and recently worn at that. Can you help me get a brand new one?"
Caroline, a princess who had fallen from the wealthy heights to the working world, found this uniform covered in stains and a strange smell difficult to accept.
When Caroline was finally sent to work, Max couldn't resist the urge to complain and vented to Han Lee: "Oh my God, this delicate girl must have come to the wrong place. Where do you find these problem cases? A Russian addict, and now a trust fund baby."
"Her hair is golden, shining, which will help bring in customers," Han Lee was exasperated after being complained to, so he could only put on his boss authority: "Besides, you can train her. I am the boss."
To be honest, Max had begun to miss the drug addict girl from before. At least that girl was really good at cleaning because she often had to dispose of evidence.
On the other side, Ron, who got the address from Detective Jack, found that the road was more and more familiar as he drove. After a long detour, he actually returned to the restaurant where Max worked.
Author's Note: Thanks for following along with the story. More developments coming in the next chapter!
(End of this chapter)
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