Chapter 224: The End of the Human Trafficking Gang
The Smith & Wesson .500 Magnum, with its five-round cylinder capacity, had previously allowed Ron to lock onto up to six targets simultaneously and still have power to spare. This time, he wanted to test his limits.
Outside the window, Ron's instinctively thrown grenade had caused little actual damage, aside from creating panic among the attackers. You can imagine how accurate a casually thrown grenade could be.
Ron had never trained in explosive ordnance.
But just as Ron began acquiring targets among the attackers, one gunman who had taken cover during the grenade blast rose from the ground, nimbly shouldering his rifle and preparing to return fire.
Ron was faster.
One, two, three... six, seven... ten!
Finally, as he locked onto the tenth target, Ron felt his energy draining. He was about to collapse if he didn't fire immediately. Fortunately, there were only twelve hostiles outside, so he pulled the trigger.
"BANG..." Ron fired ten shots in rapid succession. Ten bodies, each with precise headshots, collapsed to the ground with expressions of shock. Of the twelve attackers outside, only two remained alive.
However, they were so intimidated by Ron's supernatural marksmanship that they didn't even bother to aim properly. They cradled their assault rifles and sprayed bullets wildly in his direction. But how accurate could blind fire be?
Bullets whizzed past Ron, yet he remained completely unharmed. After dropping from the second floor, Ron didn't even bother to take cover. He stood his ground and fired twice more, eliminating the last two attackers.
"That was still pushing it too hard!" Ron surveyed the scene to confirm all hostiles were down, rubbing his throbbing temples. "I should have paced myself better."
"Hey, seen enough of the show?" Ron turned his head. Lily had somehow slipped down from the upper floor, peering cautiously from behind the low garden wall.
"Oh my God, Ron, you're incredible." Lily, unfazed by Ron's sharp tone, leaped into his arms like a homing bird, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. However, Ron pushed her away.
"Miss Lily, I'll call you that for now. Can you explain why someone was firing RPGs at me this morning before I even finished my breakfast?" Ron walked over to the corpse carrying the rocket launcher and nudged it with his boot. "Two of them, actually. I need a reasonable explanation. Who are these people?"
"Um... They..." Lily's eyes darted around as she quickly changed the subject. "They might be part of a human trafficking operation. I know where their headquarters is, and I can take you there for payback. What do you say?"
"Lily, do I look that gullible?" Ron chuckled, his gaze scrutinizing her. "Or should I call you Chen Lily?"
"Haha, what are you talking about? I have no idea what you mean." Lily took two panicked steps backward, but Ron pressed forward, pulling her into his arms intimately, like lovers embracing.
"Look, Miss Chen Lily, are you absolutely certain that your father, Mr. Chen Wei, the head of Los Angeles' largest human trafficking network, was actually being held in that container with the other victims? Was he really captured by his own people?"
Just as Chen Lily had searched through Ron's belongings in his study while he slept to confirm his identity, Ron certainly couldn't truly trust a stranger in his home, even after their intimate encounter.
Before going to bed, he had sent all of Lily's information to Ramsey, asking her to run a background check. It would have been fine if she hadn't investigated, but the search revealed that this woman was the daughter of the boss of Los Angeles' largest human trafficking ring.
So, Ron decided to play his own game.
Everything had gone almost according to plan, except he hadn't expected the hit squad to arrive so quickly, which caught him slightly off-guard.
"You already figured it out?" Chen Lily hung her head. "Yes, I'm that man's daughter, but I really don't want him to continue this business."
At this point, Chen Lily broke down in tears. "You know what? Each container holds 400 people, but only about 300 make it to the US alive. Almost 100 die during the journey!"
"But don't the survivors still make it to America?" Ron patted her back soothingly. "Maybe they can live the American Dream they wanted."
Ron said this, but his heart was completely unconvinced. After living in the US for so many years, no one understood the reality of these illegal immigrants better than he did.
There are three main sources of illegal immigration to the US. The first category is naturally the Latino immigrants who cross the Mexican border. Their composition is diverse, encompassing people from all walks of life, including but not limited to Mexicans.
Almost all illegal immigrants from Central and South America cross this border, from Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador, Venezuela... Consequently, a large Latino community has formed in the US. They stick together, helping newcomers, making them the most organized group among illegal immigrants.
The second largest source is naturally Africans. As everyone knows, there's hardly any region in Africa free from economic hardship, resulting in massive population movements from Africa, so severe that it's practically transformed parts of Europe. Of course, there's no reason to exclude the more prosperous United States.
The third largest source consists of Asian illegal immigrants, the category Chen Lily's father specialized in. Decades ago, the primary source was Chinese immigrants. As China's economic strength grew, the illegal immigrants gradually shifted to Southeast Asians, such as those from Vietnam, Cambodia, Myanmar, and the Philippines.
However, unlike the other two groups who arrived and supported each other, Mr. Chen fully exploited uniquely exploitative tactics, turning almost all the smuggled immigrants into unpaid labor.
As for the women, their fate was often even worse.
"How is that possible? My father sells them all to various sweatshops and agricultural operations. They work at least twelve hours a day and barely get enough food to survive. Anyone who tries to escape gets killed.
I have to stop this from happening again. Can you help me, Ron?"
Chen Lily looked up, her eyes full of pleading.
"Absolutely," Ron agreed readily. Chen Lily's face lit up with joy, but her happiness was premature. Ron's next words immediately crushed her mood: "So your father must have accumulated substantial wealth?"
"Uh... maybe?" Chen Lily wasn't sure. "Why do you ask?"
"For tax collection purposes, obviously." Ron said with a straight face, flashing his IRS credentials. "From what I understand, your father's shipping company has been filing taxes as an import trading business, with a tax rate of only 7%, and they still claim refunds regularly. This is completely fraudulent."
"This is serious tax evasion!" Ron declared righteously, his heart already filled with anticipation.
He had sheltered her, acted out this charade with her, and even compromised his principles for her. Did anyone really think Ron was just being charitable? You think Ron is interested in Chen Lily's beauty, but in reality, he's after the commission!
With that bonus money, how many attractive women couldn't he afford?
"By the way, your father's made quite a fortune from his dirty business in recent years, hasn't he?"
Chen Lily nodded blankly. She suddenly had an ominous feeling, as if she'd invited bandits into her home to rob the place.
...
At Los Angeles Harbor, in the headquarters of the human trafficking operation, the boss, Mr. Chen, paced back and forth in his office while on the phone. Five burly men, including his most trusted lieutenant, Walsh, stood nervously nearby.
Finally, Mr. Chen stopped pacing and hung up the phone, and everyone tensed.
"Incompetent! Absolutely incompetent!" Mr. Chen shouted.
"I sent fifteen of my best men, armed with military-grade weapons. I didn't expect that guy to be so skilled. It's my fault, boss."
Walsh lowered his head and accepted responsibility. In his experience, admitting fault at moments like this usually resulted in lighter punishment from the boss. But he didn't expect that as soon as he finished speaking, Mr. Chen hurled a coffee mug at his head.
"Moron!" Mr. Chen cursed furiously. "Is that what I'm talking about?! Who told you to move without proper intel?!"
Blood trickled down from the wound onto Walsh's face, but he didn't even dare to wipe it away. "Boss, didn't you tell me to eliminate him yesterday? I followed your orders exactly, traced his address through traffic cameras, and then..."
Mr. Chen's face turned red. He remembered that he had indeed given that order yesterday, but as the boss, even if he was wrong, what did it matter?
"Bullshit! Don't you have any brains? After finding the location, didn't you think to use that empty skull of yours to investigate the target's background?!"
"Do you know who you've pissed off? He's the captain of the IRS Special Operations Team, a legendary operative. Forget about wiping out the squad you sent—it would be child's play for him to eliminate all of you!
He even earned the Navy Cross alongside another soldier named Forrest during his service in Afghanistan! Do you know why he got that medal?"
Obviously, the intelligence about Ron in Mr. Chen's possession was much more comprehensive than expected, and his subordinates shook their heads.
"He wiped out two entire companies with just one squad! Two full companies!" Mr. Chen roared, slamming his fist on the desk, his heart pounding with terror. "That killing machine might already be on his way here right now. What do we do? You idiots, tell me what we should do!"
Mr. Chen continued his hysterical outburst. But as soon as he finished speaking, as if to prove his point, a sharp whistle cut through the air, and then the office windows shattered.
"Incoming!" Walsh had just managed to tackle Mr. Chen behind the desk when a thunderous explosion erupted behind him.
"BOOM!" The entire office, except for Walsh and Mr. Chen who had taken cover behind the desk, was devastated by the grenade blast.
Outside, Ron smacked Hank's helmet in annoyance. "You maniac! Are you insane? You actually aimed at the office? If you kill their boss, who are we going to collect our mon... I mean, taxes from!"
Ron caught himself and nearly revealed his true motivations. Everyone looked at him strangely, but Carl nodded in enthusiastic agreement.
"Ahem!" Ron coughed loudly, covering his embarrassment. "What are you staring at? Get back to work!"
"Should I switch to a different weapon?" Hank suggested.
"No, stick with that one. Hank and Carl, quickly clear out the foot soldiers on the perimeter. Arthur, Giselle, breach from the left flank. Mr. and Mrs. Smith, cover the rear exit."
Ron checked his gear and rapidly issued orders. The smugglers' headquarters faced the ocean on one side, with open ground on the other three sides. This plan created a perfect encirclement from all angles.
"What about you?" Giselle asked.
"Me?" Ron checked all his equipment and patted Giselle's hip. "Obviously I'm going through the front door. Team, let's roll!"
Everyone sprang into action.
Hank aimed his grenade launcher at the densest concentration of enemies. With a squeeze of the trigger, a spectacular spray of carnage erupted among the crowd. Carl's drone, following Ron's command, quickly took to the air.
The submachine gun mounted on the drone rained bullets down on the smugglers. Just as their attention was drawn to the snipers on the rooftops and the drone buzzing overhead,
a vehicle suddenly emerged from behind the building where Ron had been positioned. It dodged incoming fire from inside the building, swerving in a wide arc before crashing through the side entrance where cargo was loaded and unloaded.
Before the smugglers inside could target the vehicle, Arthur and Giselle, armed with submachine guns, leaped from the car. Two operators, two weapons—they laid down a devastating field of fire, rapidly cutting down the occupants.
Just as the smugglers finally attempted to flee, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, each wielding squad automatic weapons, stood outside the back entrance, grinning as they established crossfire at the exit.
"Rat-a-tat-tat..."
The .50 caliber machine gun rounds mercilessly tore apart the smugglers attempting to escape through the rear door, leaving not a single body intact.
"Attention all personnel inside. This is the captain of the IRS Special Operations Team. You are completely surrounded," Ron announced arrogantly through a megaphone. "I'm now counting down from ten. If you don't drop your weapons and surrender, we will commence final assault."
"Ten, nine, eight..."
Ron quietly switched off the megaphone when he reached eight and grabbed his radio. "Commence assault immediately!"
"Boss, didn't you say you'd count to ten?" Little Carl was confused, stunned by Ron's shamelessness.
"Seven, six..." Ron called out two more numbers through the megaphone, smirking dismissively. "What do you know? This is called psychological warfare. It's a tactical maneuver, understand? Five... I'm telling you, if you're not smart, you need to study harder. Without education, even if you're just trying to survive, you have no future. Four..."
Ron lectured earnestly, while Little Carl mimicked Ron's smirk. He'd rather die than study. Wasn't this just straight-up cheating? He'd seen plenty growing up in the projects. How could this be considered military strategy?
If this could be considered military strategy, then his old man was a master tactician!
The screen in front of Carl displayed feeds from each team member's body cameras. Except for Ron, the other four operatives had already converged inside the small building.
Carl maneuvered a drone to hover beneath the office window, preparing to detonate it once Arthur and the others breached the door, but suddenly a coat hanger with white underwear emerged from the office window.
"Captain, hold your fire! We surrender!"
Ron scratched his head. If it weren't for that last sentence being different, he almost thought he was listening to a classic comedy routine.
Surrendering just like that?
(End of Chapter)
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