The daily life of American TV agents

Chapter 48 We're Just Going to Collect Taxes
"Boss, we're going to seal up that drug lab now!" As soon as Ron hung up the phone, Hank couldn't wait to make a suggestion.

Ron asked strangely: "Seize it for what?"

"This way we have evidence to prosecute him for producing and selling drugs." Hank said naturally, he has always done this in DEA, and he doesn't think there is any problem.

"Sorry, Mr. Hank, I need to remind you that you are no longer working in the DEA, but in the IRS. We don't have the power to enforce drug enforcement." Ron looked serious.

"Then what should we do? Should we just leave him alone?" Hank said angrily. He thought that he could realize his ambition by jumping to Ron, but he didn't expect the reality to disappoint him.

A strange smile appeared on Ron's face: "Of course not, Mr. Hank, do you know what the most important job of our IRS is?"

"Taxation?" Hank asked tentatively, and Ron returned a satisfied smile.

"Yes."

Hank: "What do taxes have to do with drugs?"

"Do you think Flynn is just a drug dealer?" Ron clasped his hands together and held his chin: "It's so naive!"

"Is not it?"

"Of course not, or not at all. While he was a drug dealer, he was also a shameful tax evader. The tax bureau has not received a penny from him so far for the part of the drug trade."

"It's not a penny!" Ron hammered heavily on the table, emphasizing his tone: "So, we have the right to collect money from him, and use violence when necessary."

After finishing speaking, Ron blinked mischievously, and Hank immediately understood.

Yes, the IRS does not have the right to investigate drugs, but they can go to Flynn to collect taxes. Hank doesn't believe that he can really pay the tax for drugs.

"Then what are we going to do? I've never done tax collection. Are we going to talk to him directly?" Hank planned to learn some tricks from his BOSS.

"It's okay, I'll teach you well, and you'll be fine after you learn it once. Besides, your relative's chemistry teacher is okay, a big drug lord like Gustavo Flynn, do you think he will pay his taxes well? "

"probably not."

Hank thought for a while, not to mention Flynn, even Walter would work desperately for the money in order to be able to cure the disease or leave a sufficient inheritance for the child.

Ron turned his head to Andy who was on the side: "Andy, did someone who looks like Nicolas Cage send something over yesterday?"

"If you're talking about that strange-looking pickup, he's parked in the garage downstairs now." Andy took out a key from a drawer and threw it over.

Ron reached out to catch it, and then pressed it under the desk. The bookshelf, which originally contained all kinds of books, immediately split from the middle, revealing the secret room inside.

"These..." Hank opened his mouth wide in surprise.

I saw that the secret room was filled with all kinds of weapons ranging from Springfield rifles to recoilless guns. It can be said that it is not an exaggeration to say that it is a small arsenal. Hank conservatively estimated that the equipment inside could at least be armed. a battalion.

"This is the arsenal of the IRS Special Operations Team. You can take whatever you like. You're welcome." Ron said generously. At the same time, he took off his suit to reveal his strong muscles. A baggy plaid shirt was so well covered that it couldn't be seen from the outside.

Then he put a Smith & Wesson pistol into the holster, and took a Remington M870 on his back. Before going out, he took a broken felt hat from the hanger and put it on his head, looking like an old western cowboy.

"Boss, isn't it a little too much for us to bring such equipment? Are we going to fight?" Hank, who was sitting in Ron's truck with his arms in his arms, asked anxiously.

Because he noticed that this pickup truck seemed to be different from ordinary ones. Not to mention the shell seemed to be bulletproof, even the things behind the truck made him terrified, and brought back some bad memories when he was a soldier.

Ron started the car and drove out of the garage: "War? Why do you have such an idea? We are just going to collect a tax~"

"Is that thing needed for tax collection?" Hank pointed to the big guy covered by the cloth behind.

It was a twelve-tube steel monster welded to the rear compartment. If he remembered correctly, it should be a Type 63 107MM rocket launcher. When he was a soldier in Iraq, local guerrillas often used this thing.

No recoil, convenient and fast shooting, but it can fire twelve rounds of rockets at the same time. The firepower is fierce and the light weight is even more rare. It is only 613 kg in the full bomb state. It can be transferred immediately after shooting. It can be transferred to any car. can be pulled away.

Therefore, together with AK and RPG, they are also known as the three major artifacts of the guerrillas.

Hank's unit was attacked by this kind of weapon, which left a deep psychological shadow on him.

"Of course~" Ron raised his voice in dissatisfaction: "There are only two of us, and they are a group of heavily armed drug cartel militants. Only it can give me a sufficient sense of security."

"But it's too powerful. Do you want to blow up the drug manufacturing laboratory? Then what evidence do we have to accuse him of drug trafficking... Ah no, I mean tax evasion."

Hank felt that Ron didn't look like a tax bureau employee who was going to collect taxes at all. Instead, he looked like a guerrilla who often appeared in his dreams, using this thing to collect taxes?Is there anything that hasn't been blasted to pieces?I can collect a yarn.

"Don't worry~" Ron waved his hand: "I didn't put all of them into high-explosive rockets, there were only four real anti-personnel rockets, and the rest were tear gas and flash bombs. I am a sensible person. "

"That's okay..." Hank just felt relieved and felt something was wrong: "What a fart! Even if it's tear gas, using this kind of charge is too much, right?"

"Otherwise, what should I do? Do you know that I am short of manpower, so I can only use firepower to even out the gap between each other, or do you want to become the first blood Stallone and single out a group of them?"

One sentence immediately made Hank sit down in a chair and stop talking. He was still young and had a beautiful wife. He didn't want to die so early.

Immediately, the pickup truck drove to an open space less than five kilometers away from Flynn's Laundromat. There was no building blocking the distance from here to the Laundromat, making it an excellent launching base.

The smoke from the top of the chimney of the laundromat in the distance is slightly yellow, which should be the smoke produced by the initial reaction of methylamine. If Ron guessed correctly, drug production activities are currently being carried out inside.

In other words, it happened that Hank's chemistry teacher's brother-in-law was also inside.

Ron tore off the cloth, revealing the ferocious steel monster inside: "Now, start working~"

(End of this chapter)