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Ron stared intently at Andy's face, and Andy's calm expression completely vanished, replaced by the terror of being exposed. He immediately sprang into action, his hands lunging for Ron's steering wheel.
But before his hands reached halfway, Ron slipped an arm through Andy's armpit, pressed it against the back of his head, and slammed it hard against the car's dashboard.
"Wham!" Andy saw stars, but a single blow couldn't defeat someone desperate for freedom. He struggled to get up, preparing to attack Ron again.
Ron rolled his eyes and struck again: "Wham!"
"I've been locked up for twenty years!" "Wham!"
"Dragged away from my home!" "Wham!"
"Now you want to send me back!" "Wham!"
"You've got a death wish!" Ron finished his rant before Andy could speak again, then delivered another blow to Andy's head: "Wham!"
"Seriously? You're not some action hero!"
Who does he think he is? Andy's head was spinning from Ron's assault, and he could barely make out Ron's complaints.
But before he could move, something cold pressed against Andy's temple. Ron's voice cut through the air: "Just to prevent any unfortunate accidents, let me remind you again: I'm a federal agent. So think very carefully before you make your next move."
Andy's spirits crashed once more. Was he finally escaping, only to be dragged back? He couldn't accept this fate.
"Believe it or not, I really didn't kill anyone. I was wrongfully convicted. If you're willing to help me, you can even track down the real killer in another prison!" Andy shouted desperately.
Despite feeling hopeless, he continued to fight, but something unexpected happened. Ron actually lowered his weapon and said, "You can give me his name. Maybe I'll have a chat with him first."
"You believe me just like that? Aren't you worried I'm some dangerous criminal trying to manipulate you?" Andy's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Of course..." Ron drawled, his tone teasing, and before Andy could lose his patience, he continued, "Of course I don't believe you. Every convict claims they're innocent, and you're no different.
But you're in luck. I happen to need a financial expert to work for me, so I'm willing to help with your investigation. If you're truly innocent, having an employee with a clean record would definitely be more profitable for me."
Ron spoke coldly, at least to Andy's ears. As for the truth, Ron knew better than anyone about Andy's wrongful conviction—he'd seen the movie.
But understanding something and acting on it were two different things. If a complete stranger claimed innocence and you immediately believed them, that would be extremely suspicious.
"Are you really willing to help me investigate and clear my name?" Andy asked excitedly, bolting upright in his seat.
"Absolutely, assuming you're truly innocent and willing to work for me in the future." Ron shrugged casually, then fixed his sharp gaze on Andy again. "Also, if you have any other... undeclared assets, I suggest you handle the tax situation before using them. You're a smart man—you know what I'm getting at, right?"
Andy tightened his grip on the notebook hidden in his shirt before finally pulling it out. "I'm guessing you mean this. This is the ledger documenting how the warden has been laundering money through my tax schemes, embezzlement, and other crimes over the years."
Ron, however, kept driving steadily, showing no intention of taking the money. "You know I want more than that."
Andy gritted his teeth and finally produced another small package. It contained a driver's license, social security card, and other essentials—everything a person would need to start fresh in America. This was what he had originally planned to rely on after his escape. Andy considered these things his rightfully earned compensation—after all, it was the warden who was truly corrupt.
"Alright, and here's this: a bank account the warden opened under a false identity. It contains all the illegal income he's accumulated over the years—a total of $395,400."
After handing over the small package and placing his fate entirely in the other man's hands, Andy slumped back in his seat as if all his strength had been drained. But what choice did he have? He was completely outmatched.
Just moments ago, when Ron had the gun pressed to his head, Andy hadn't even seen him draw it! He watched carefully as Ron holstered the weapon, but still couldn't figure out how he'd done it.
The pistol seemed to disappear into thin air, and the sharp-minded Andy immediately realized this agent was way out of his league.
Ron finally nodded with satisfaction and smiled grimly, but still didn't take what Andy offered. Instead, he said, "That's right. Honesty is the foundation of trust between two strangers.
Don't worry, I'm not going to confiscate these items. Instead, I want you to restructure the account. I'll recover the tax evasion portion on behalf of the IRS, and the rest of the money from corruption—after deducting penalties—will be your personal income. Sound fair, Mr. Alonso Rodriguez?"
Ron read aloud the fake name from the driver's license Andy had produced.
"Andy, that alias you chose is pretty lousy. You'd be better off sticking with your real name—assuming I find proof of your innocence. I don't want to employ an actual murderer."
Andy was speechless. You think I came up with that terrible name? That was all the warden's doing!
"So where are you planning to lock me up?"
"Lock you up?" Ron asked, surprised. "Of course not. I'm going to put you up at a friend's place temporarily. My apartment can't handle any more roommates."
Ron tossed the items back to Andy. "Keep your stuff. If you don't want to trust me, you can always take your little package and run off wherever you want, just like you originally planned."
Andy finally let his guard down, at least for the moment. He had nowhere else to go anyway, so trusting Ron for a while wasn't the worst idea. At least Ron wasn't sending him back to prison, right?
As for the escape option, after witnessing Ron's lightning-fast draw, Andy abandoned that thought entirely. The man could kill him in a heartbeat.
Ron, naturally, had his own agenda. On one hand, he genuinely wanted to help Andy out of personal sympathy for the character. On the other hand, Ron was curious to see what skills he might gain from Andy once he earned his loyalty.
Sometimes, helping others and serving your own interests aren't mutually exclusive.
"Dom, this is a friend of mine, Andy. I need you to put him up for a few days—is that cool?" Ron parked at an intersection near Toretto's house and called Dom outside. "It'd be great if you could get him cleaned up and lend him some clothes from one of your crew. Man, he sticks out like a sore thumb around here."
"Your fancy suit doesn't exactly blend in either. He doesn't belong in this neighborhood. Why don't you take him back to your place?" Dom shook his bald head helplessly.
Ron and Andy were wearing expensive, well-tailored suits, while Dom remained in his signature tank top, creating a stark contrast between the three men.
"It's witness protection, obviously. You don't really think our IRS safe houses are bulletproof, do you? If I leave him here, at least I won't come back from my assignment to find a pile of bodies, right?" Ron stated matter-of-factly.
The warden of Shawshank Prison was a man with serious connections, otherwise he never could have created something like a luxury wing that resembled a high-end hotel to generate income. Without powerful backing, he wouldn't have dared attempt such a scheme.
After all, even the most influential people today couldn't guarantee they'd never end up behind bars. Having a place like this at least ensured a more comfortable stay if that day ever came. So, with the tacit approval of various parties, this unusual prison arrangement existed.
Even Ron's IRS was one of his supporters, as they frequently sent white-collar criminals to Shawshank—people who had committed crimes but received protection from the IRS for paying their back taxes, like Mr. Channing.
Therefore, the warden had close ties with certain IRS officials. It wasn't impossible for the warden to have another agent eliminate Andy in a safe house. After all, no one knew better than Ron that when an agent wanted someone dead, they had countless ways to make it happen.
But the warden absolutely shouldn't have been evading taxes—that crossed the IRS's red line. Furthermore, according to Andy's ledger, the warden's profits were only a small fraction of the total. So where did the bulk of the money go?
Ron had even noticed a strange connection between the list of inmates in the luxury wing and the drug case he was investigating.
Besides the illegal dealers who paid taxes to the IRS for protection, nearly half of the inmates in the special wing were drug offenders. And according to what Channing and Andy had told him, these individuals knew each other before their incarceration.
Ron had a growing suspicion that there was a much larger story here: street-level dealers, gangs, high-end chemists, and corrupt politicians were all connected by drug profits, forming a nationwide narcotics network.
Even the shadow of a certain intelligence agency with completely unregulated funding was inevitable: the CIA. Only such a powerful intelligence agency could bring these seemingly unrelated people together.
Dom sighed: "Ron, you've dumped another problem on me."
"Don't worry, this problem will stay under the radar for now," Ron assured him. "When I get back from my assignment in Mexico, I'll take this headache off your hands."
Andy looked back and forth between Dom and Ron, finally choosing to trust Ron and follow Dom. Before leaving, Andy pressed the account book into Ron's hands.
"Here, take this."
"Andy, didn't I tell you? Keep that stuff for now." Ron smiled and refused to take it.
"I think it's safer in your hands," Andy said, still shaken. He was terrified by the theory Ron had mentioned in the car: "At least if someone grabs me and discovers the ledger isn't on me, I might survive long enough for you to come rescue me."
Andy was beginning to feel fortunate to have encountered Ron. If he had fled overseas according to his original plan, he probably wouldn't have been able to escape CIA pursuit. The stakes were too high.
Ron chuckled: "Don't worry, with the world's best driver watching your back, nobody's going to catch you."
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