Chapter 310: Tracker
Harry was starting to lose his composure because of Ron. As a top agent, he was undoubtedly one of the people who knew the truth about the Scottish incident, understanding its cause, process, and outcome. He naturally knew exactly what Ron meant by "paying back a favor."
Imagine you owe your neighbor money, and they say, "There's a hornet's nest in my yard, can you knock it down for me and we'll be even?" But you bring in a C4 bomb, blowing up not only the tree with the hornet's nest but also several surrounding trees, almost damaging their house!
You call that paying back a favor?
Well, that's a pretty underhanded way to do it.
Harry wanted to complain, but he had more important things to do, and Ron was the most likely person to help him, so he had to suppress his urge to complain: "Okay, it's simple enough, but could you help me put a tracker on Valentine?"
"This is our Tailor Shop's latest technology tracker..."
Harry handed Ron a tracker about the size of a finger. According to him, despite its incredibly small size, it had both tracking and eavesdropping functions, a 24-hour battery life, and a maximum receiving distance of 50 kilometers.
Ron's eyes lit up. The IRS didn't have such a useful gadget. He unceremoniously put the tracker in his pocket: "Such a good piece of tech shouldn't be wasted on him. My department happens to be short of these kinds of gadgets. Do you have a few more? Can I get a few more? Oh, and the receiver too."
Ron acted like he was helping himself to free samples, which infuriated Harry. He instantly felt his blood pressure spike several notches. This was North America's best agent? He looked like a common thief!
However, a whisper from his tech officer in his earpiece immediately made him abandon his contempt for Ron. Just moments before, the instant Ron put the tracker in his pocket, his tech officer had lost the signal!
Regardless of the method, in his view, it was enough to intimidate him; Ron was enough to command his respect: "Alright, so what do you plan to do?"
"I don't know, but there's definitely a way," Ron said confidently, while scanning the entire room. The older woman Principal Hippeter had just introduced to the scientists for a game of poker was flirting with three poor young men. It was clear she was very interested in Leonard and probably wanted something to happen.
However, judging from Leonard's expression, he was inwardly opposed. Ron scoffed at this; he was just being a hypocrite!
In Ron's book, if someone said they had a girlfriend over 60, they'd be the envy of half their buddies at the bar.
Of course, the main reason Ron noticed that spot wasn't because he envied Leonard for immediately having a girlfriend over 60, but because he noticed that Harry's target, Valentine, also seemed interested in the scientists' group.
"That's interesting."
"In the intelligence you've gathered, is there any information about Mr. Valentine's sexual orientation? Does he have any particular tastes? For example, a special preference for men with a more boyish style?"
"No, why would you think of that!" Harry's slightly improved impression of Ron immediately collapsed again.
"I was thinking that if he just happens not to have any homosexual interests, then his attitude towards scientists is quite intriguing, and coincidentally, the scientist he's interested in is my friend."
As Valentine joined the conversation, the five people gradually split into two small circles: one was Leonard and the patron lady's flirting group, and the other was Valentine and Howard with Rajesh's science fiction group.
Ron vaguely heard a few words being discussed on the other side, and put together, he could roughly guess that they were talking about post-disaster reconstruction after a large-scale human catastrophe.
This was precisely the topic that scientists and science fiction writers were most interested in, and perhaps this was something that could be exploited. No matter how cunning Valentine was, he would definitely not be wary of these simple-minded scientists.
This was definitely something that could be used. Just as Ron was pondering how to discreetly use a few nerdy scientists to plant the tracker, Sheldon suddenly burst into the banquet hall. Ron's eyes lit up; he knew his chance had come.
"No, no, no, I'm just here for the money. I don't want to shake any hands covered in germs. Hippeter, you need to explain this to them!" Seeing the hands extended towards him, Sheldon reacted as if he had touched something dirty, disgustedly raising his own hand and loudly demanding that Principal Hippeter come to his rescue.
Of course, this action also successfully attracted the attention of everyone in the banquet hall.
"Sheldon, what brings you here?!" Ron squeezed through Raj and Howard to stand in front of Sheldon, while simultaneously slipping two pens into the suit pockets of the two scientists.
Those two pens were no ordinary items; they were IRS-supplied spy tools, the same kind Harry had just given him, though not as small, but even more discreet.
Everything seemed so natural that no one noticed his odd behavior; everyone's attention remained firmly drawn to Sheldon.
It must be said, Sheldon's ability to draw attention was truly impressive.
"And this is..." Valentine looked at Sheldon, then at Ron, unsure of the relationship between Ron and the new oddball.
"Excuse me, this eccentric scientist is my younger brother. I'm very sorry to have disturbed you all." Ron continued walking forward, stopping beside Valentine, and apologetically patted Mr. Valentine on the shoulder.
At the same time, he casually tossed the ace agent-grade tracker he had just seized from Harry into Mr. Valentine's pocket.
The secretary next to Mr. Valentine frowned slightly but said nothing, only noting Ron's appearance in her mind; she found Ron's actions highly suspicious.
"Don't tell me this is your method. Using such an obvious excuse and action to plant a tracker on someone? Do you think everyone is an idiot? You practically walked right up to him and told him you're a secret agent."
Although Ron wasn't Harry's subordinate, he was still furious and couldn't help but reprimand him. Unfortunately, like Valentine's secretary, he only saw Ron's last move, not his first.
"You don't really think I'm that stupid, do you?" Ron smiled smugly at Harry, a sense of intellectual superiority welling up within him. "I suggest that if you have time, you read less of those etiquette books on gentlemanly conduct and more military strategy—misdirection, understand? Classic bait and switch."
(End of Chapter)
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