Chapter 203: Supermarket
A Sherman M4 tank—a used piece Ron had salvaged from a military surplus warehouse. Damn those Pentagon bureaucrats! Such an old WWII relic, just because it's still operational, is now serving with an armored division and a war museum. What a perfect way to put it to good use!
Ron was floored by this bureaucratic brilliance. He was playing checkers while the Pentagon generals were playing 4D chess.
But after acquiring it, he faced another challenge: how to operate this vintage beast?
Fortunately, Chef Hannibal and the janitor who looked like Morgan Freeman said they had both served in the military and knew how to run it. They just needed a gunner, and little Carl was small enough to fit in the turret without any issues.
"No way, absolutely not! This is for a movie production. Here's the filming permit," Ron said, shoving an official form into Mr. Smith's face.
"And I guarantee no neighbors will complain, because ten hours ago, the entire neighborhood received complimentary Disney World vacation packages from me, courtesy of a film production company. So, there aren't any residents near your house right now.
So, can you take me to your former employer? By the way, both companies are probably owned by the same parent corporation."
Mrs. Smith understood. No wonder the cops hadn't shown up despite all the commotion.
"Of course, I've always known where the company operates. Its headquarters are hidden beneath the Costco Supermarket on the south side of town. The question is, how are you planning to get there? Are you seriously going to drive that tank through downtown LA?"
"Why not?" Ron said, climbing onto the tank's hull and knocking on the commander's hatch. The hatch opened, and Ron dropped halfway inside. "Would you two like to ride along?"
The couple exchanged glances and shook their heads. They preferred to follow in their own Escalade.
"Alright, let's roll out." Ron patted the driver's shoulder, and the old tank rumbled to life.
Along the way, Ron enjoyed the night scenery and waved at passing motorists from the tank's turret until he received a call from Hobbs: "What the fuck! You crazy bastard, you actually drove a tank onto city streets! What the hell are you trying to accomplish!"
"Of course, it's to uphold the glorious tradition of the IRS. Using tanks to collect taxes. That's how our predecessors in the 1950s collected from the Corleone Family. Such a fine tradition must be preserved!"
Ron spoke with complete conviction, and Hobbs was stunned to find he actually believed him!
Hobbs exploded in frustration, "Bullshit! This isn't the 1950s, the era of organized crime! This isn't Chicago! I won't tolerate you running wild in my jurisdiction!"
"Sorry, let me correct you. Los Angeles is my territory, not yours. I was stationed here months before you arrived." Ron apologized, but his expression showed no remorse.
Clueless Hobbs! After all this time, you still can't read the situation.
Do you really think I just want to make a spectacle by rolling out the tank?
Well, Ron admitted that was part of it, but only a small part. The more important purpose was to send a message to whoever was behind the assassination company.
He had investigated and discovered that the witness who supposedly knew the whereabouts of bin Laden was completely fabricated.
In other words, someone had used a fake witness to lure him to the remote US-Mexico border, and then, through different aliases, contracted assassins to eliminate this witness.
Was the target really the witness? Obviously it was him!
Even basic logic would tell you that no drug smuggler on the US-Mexico border could have intel on the movements of the world's most wanted terrorist.
If Ron hadn't happened to bring Arthur along, and Arthur hadn't happened to predict the enemy's tactics, and the assassins hadn't happened to be a married couple,
with all those coincidences aligning, Ron might have been reduced to hamburger meat, zipped up in a body bag and shipped back to his hometown in Texas.
This made him furious. Since his career began, he had always been the one sending others to meet their maker, but this was the first time he had almost been sent to the great beyond himself.
"Look, even so, I strongly advise you not to act recklessly. Don't worry, I'll bring my team to assist you immediately. Don't do anything stupid."
"Sorry, it's too late."
The tank lurched to a stop, transitioning from motion to stillness, and the turret began rotating into firing position.
"It's too late? What do you mean?" Hobbs panicked, suddenly filled with dread.
"Too late means I'm about to engage the target."
Click! The turret locked into position, aimed directly at the supermarket.
But before the shell could be fired, two RPGs suddenly streaked from either side of the supermarket and slammed into the tank at high velocity!
"BOOM!" Less than a hundred yards away, the old Sherman tank was instantly engulfed in flames by the rocket strikes, screaming like a burning coffin.
"Is this the legendary IRS operative? Looks pretty ordinary to me. I thought he'd be more formidable."
In the supermarket's basement, unlike typical retail spaces, the cluttered storefront was packed with computers and state-of-the-art electronic equipment. A man in an expensive suit, smoking a Cuban cigar, watched the burning tank on the monitor and made this observation.
"I think we should remain cautious. Ron has built such a massive reputation in the intelligence community. There must be something exceptional about him." The subordinate standing nearby couldn't articulate it, but something felt off.
"Exceptional? Exceptionally hilarious death? Hahaha..." The man in the suit laughed as if he'd heard the funniest joke of the year.
"Indeed, nobody has died in a tank on American soil in decades. Maybe he set a record? The first American to die in a tank in the 21st century?"
But his subordinate remained skeptical, even leaning forward to carefully review the surveillance footage.
This movement finally revealed her face completely from the shadows. If Ron happened to be there, he would be shocked.
This person had a face nearly identical to Arthur!
No, saying "nearly identical" was an understatement. There were still subtle differences. The eyes looked more like Owen, whom Ron had previously eliminated in London.
That's right, this was Owen's legendary operative brother, Deckard Shaw, who was also an ace in the intelligence world.
Ron had used all his connections to search for him across the globe for six months, but couldn't find any trace of him. Unexpectedly, he had appeared in such an unexpected way today.
(End of this chapter)
If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a Review!
P*atreon/Soulforger (80+ advanced chapters)
Buy me coffee - ko-fi*com/soulforger01