Chapter 361: Andy Needs Manpower
"You idiot! Love is like a flash in the pan—you'll understand eventually. Think it over!" Raj's father angrily ended the video call.
Less than five minutes later, Rajesh received a notification on his phone that his credit card had been frozen.
"How long do you think it'll take for Rajesh to figure it out?" Howard asked worriedly as they left Rajesh's apartment.
"That depends on when he goes on his next date with that gold digger," Ron said distractedly. "As long as Rajesh can't throw money around like he used to, he'll be replaced immediately. Of course, if I'm wrong, then maybe it really is what he calls true love, and I wish them the best."
"Anyway, I'm heading out. Drive safe." Ron walked to his car and hurriedly said goodbye to Howard.
His mind was already at Max's small apartment, all because he'd just received a photo from Caroline—a picture of her and Max together.
In the photo, Max was reluctantly wearing a very sexy catwoman outfit that Caroline had forced on her, complete with black fishnet stockings covering those beautiful legs...
Men live for fishnets.
If there had to be another reason, it would probably be Caroline in the photo, nestled next to Max, wearing an angelic white dress with white thigh-highs on her long legs.
A man lives for fishnets, or for any other kind of stockings, really.
What should have been a thirty-minute drive, Ron made in less than ten minutes. He pulled out his pre-prepared key and opened the door: "Ladies, I'm home!"
The apartment, just like in the photos, was heaven...
"Ron, Ron..."
Ron, who was passed out on his office desk, felt someone shaking him. He groggily opened his eyes, lifting his sleepy gaze. The person shaking him was Andy: "Andy, if there's nothing urgent, could you let me sleep a little longer? Maybe in your eyes, I just look like a boss who slacks off and naps at work, but what you don't know is that on countless nights, I've been working tirelessly gathering new intelligence.
Please show at least some respect for your supervisor."
Ron shamelessly claimed his wild night was for work, but the perceptive Andy had already seen through everything.
"Really?" Andy scoffed skeptically. "Your so-called overtime for intelligence—you weren't playing some weird game with the stray cat, were you?"
"How did you know?!" Ron was shocked. Andy was just a regular old guy, how could his detective skills be so good that Ron hadn't even noticed?
"I don't know anything, I just happened to hear you talking in your sleep: 'Little kitty, does kitty want her master's lollipop?'" Andy retorted sarcastically. "Boss, I was young once too. I knew immediately that wasn't an actual lollipop."
"Ahem, ahem." Ron blushed and quickly covered his embarrassment with a cough. "The cat thing isn't important, Andy. What do you need? I remember saying you guys can make your own decisions—you don't have to ask me about everything."
Ron's management style was basically absentee landlord. Or, to put it more charitably, he believed in delegation. Everyone had plenty of autonomy, and he only stepped in to troubleshoot when someone's work hit a roadblock.
"This is something you have to decide," Andy said, gesturing to the mountain of ledgers piled on his desk. "Thanks to your scorched-earth tactics, more and more companies are willing to hand over their books for audit lately."
"Isn't that a good thing? Go ahead and audit them. If you find any asshole who's been screwing with my taxes, tell me, and I guarantee I'll make them regret the day they were born," Ron said menacingly.
"That's true, but there are too many ledgers for me to review alone. I need an assistant—a real accounting expert. This isn't a job just anyone can handle."
"What about Carl?" Ron asked, drumming his fingers on the desk.
If possible, he preferred to promote from within. In his mind, this special ops unit was primarily defined by combat capability. Accounting experts could be found at any business school.
But that kid was a street hustler who could barely hold a calculator, let alone a gun properly. That wasn't the kind of person Ron wanted. For a special operations team, Andy alone was enough dead weight without combat skills.
However, Andy's reply immediately shattered those illusions.
Andy exclaimed in an exaggerated tone, "Do you know what Carl got on his last math test? An F! A freaking F! If it weren't for that letter on his paper, I wouldn't have known you could actually fail math!"
Ron could only shrug helplessly. "Okay, so what kind of person do you think would work? Let me be clear—I absolutely will not hire anyone who can't handle a weapon onto my team."
"I've got someone in mind, and I think he'll satisfy both requirements," Andy handed Ron a stack of papers he'd prepared beforehand. "This is a particularly interesting tidbit from the intel summary that just came from the finance department.
It was taken three years ago by Interpol during an undercover op in Antwerp. The image quality has been enhanced; their target was the person on the far right."
"Zamora," Ron recognized the person in the photo immediately. "This guy used to control the world's largest heroin supply chain. I remember Hobbs was running point on this case. What's your angle here?"
"Check out the other photos."
Andy always had a reason for everything, so Ron complied, looking at the printed photos one by one. When he got to the third one, he let out a soft "Huh," and then quickly flipped through the remaining photos.
These photos were all taken by Interpol over recent years, showing drug traffickers and arms dealers from around the world. It looked like just a collection of criminal mugshots, but all the photos had one thing in common.
In every single photo, there was a tall man with his back to the camera. Judging from the build, these figures were likely the same person.
Now Ron was intrigued: "Interesting. Same guy in every shot, Andy. What do you make of this person's identity?"
"I think he's the accountant providing money laundering services for all of them," Andy confidently produced another stack of photos. "These are the identities of the people in the photos that I cross-referenced with other case files.
In every photo where that man appears, those kingpins are always with their most trusted money managers. I believe this is definitely not a coincidence."
In the other dossier Andy provided, the identities of each person were labeled in meticulous detail, except for the mysterious man, who still had a question mark next to his profile.
(End of Chapter)
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