Daily life of an American TV drama agent

"BOSS, BOSS, how's the situation inside? Do you need support?" Hank's concerned voice came from the intercom on Ron's chest.

Hank was guarding the back door and had only killed one drug dealer, Ma Zi. He heard the explosions and gunshots in the laundry and couldn't help but worry about his new boss.

"Don't worry, basically everything..." Before Ron could finish his words, a horse boy who wanted to sneak attack came out from behind a pile of clothes. Ron knocked him to the ground with the butt of his gun: "Now that everything is done, you can come in. ”

"Wait, you can't do this! Even criminals have human rights. Believe it or not... I'll call the police!" The gangster who was pointed at by Ron said the most cowardly words in a threatening tone with fear on his face.

Drug dealer calls the police? Are you the funny guy invited by Uncle Fried Chicken?

"Call the police, I'm the fucking police. Why are you calling the police?" Ron was almost amused by this guy, and directly pushed the barrel of the shotgun into his mouth.

"Listen, I'm looking for the entrance to the meth lab. You only have ten seconds to tell me where it is? Ten, eight, six..." Ron started counting with a smirk on his face. Ma Zi was so frightened that his soul flew away.

"Wait! Shouldn't there be nine after ten?"

"I prefer even numbers, do you have any opinion? Four, two..." Ron counted faster. He suddenly smelled a foul smell. When he lowered his head, he saw that the crotch of Ma Zi's pants was wet.

Ma Zai held the barrel of the gun in his mouth and said vaguely: "Don't count! Don't count! I said, the entrance is at the door of the big washing machine, please let me go!"

Ron turned his attention to the large washing machine. Even after two rounds of bombardment, the appearance was still tough. It seemed that some kind of bulletproof material should be used. This also made Ron discover his extraordinary qualities.

Ron pulled the barrel of the gun out of Ma Zi's mouth, motioned him to stand up, and then put the gun on the back of his head again: "Go and open the door for me. It's best not to play any tricks. There's no other meaning. The main thing is I'm afraid my gun will go off, you know~"

Go to hell! Ma Zai gingerly touched under the washing machine. The washing machine was opened, revealing a spacious corridor leading directly to the ground.

"Is there no passage down here that leads to the outside?" Hank asked, who had just come in through the back door.

Ma Zai shook his head quickly, fearing that he would be offended if he answered slowly: "No, this is Flynn's meth lab down here. To keep it secret, there is no exit to anywhere else."

Hank stopped Ron who was about to find out: "BOSS, there may be my brother-in-law down here. I think it's better for me to go down."

Ron nodded and pushed Ma Zi forward into the corridor: "Then let him go ahead. If you find anything wrong, you can just discharge the gun and kill this guy. Don't worry, everything is a mechanical problem with the gun. I promise you won't take any responsibility."

When Ma Zai heard this, he immediately straightened his body and looked more docile.

"That's right," Ron patted Ma Zai's face with satisfaction: "You know? Uncle Ron's gun likes well-behaved children."

Hank followed Ron's example and shrugged. He was completely helpless towards this vicious BOSS, but it seemed like it would be nice to hang out with him?

No need to take responsibility, courage to act, and generous salary and bonuses. Who wouldn’t want to have a boss like this?

However, Hank was obviously being sentimental. After a while, he led Ma Zi and a fat man who was naive but at a loss and walked up again. Ron had seen the photo of Hank's brother-in-law, and it was obvious that he was not this person.

"BOSS, we walked around down there and couldn't find anyone except him. This is Gale, my brother-in-law's collaborator, another chemist. My brother-in-law seemed to have some conflicts with Flynn and didn't come. Now what should we do?"

"Hey, boy!" Ron pointed Ma Zi's head with his gun: "Does your boss know what's happening here?"

"No, I swear, he doesn't know anything until now. Everything happened so fast that no one had time to report to him!"

"Very good," Ron nodded with satisfaction: "Then now that you are free, tell him everything that happened here, and tell him that the IRS is looking for him and hopes that he will pay the tax. As for how much he should pay, he should know in his mind. I think this chemist named Gale would be happy to tell us the sales volume he knows about, right?”

Gale, who had been shaking since he was brought up and saw the corpses on the ground, nodded quickly.

Ron raised his wrist and looked at his watch: "Counting the time, it's time for those losers at the FBI to react when we make such a big noise, so let's call it a day."

Fifteen minutes later, Jack, who was finally late, couldn't help but have a headache when he looked at the IRS spray painting on the door of the devastated laundry, but he still took out his mobile phone and found a number to call.

"National Guard? You don't need to come. This time it's the IRS who is messing around in the city. Why is there artillery fire? I want to know why too! God knows where that bastard got the artillery."

Yes, let me say it again, it is not a terrorist attack..."

…

While Jack was still wiping Ron's butt, he was back home comfortably, and that hapless chemist, for no lethal reason.

Ron and Hank tied him up, put them in dirty clothes bags, put them in the truck, and took them back to the garage of the Special Operations Team. The two of them had a tacit understanding and no one mentioned untying him.

There is plenty of time for interrogation and accounting and other tasks, so let's tie this little cutie up for a night first.

The top priority was to submit a supplementary report first, because just as Ron was driving home, multiple terrorist groups had claimed responsibility for the incident, and the Pentagon's phone calls were frantically ringing.

Even Ron's boss behind the scenes, Francis, called to ask Ron how much shit he had in his head. How could you come up with such a "genius" idea to use multiple rocket launchers in the city?

But the anger dissipated immediately when Ron told him how much tax he could collect and how much political donations he could get from a charitable drug dealer.

"Next time if you plan to make a big move, you'd better tell those money-hungry people in the Pentagon in advance. Even President Cornhead called me just now to ask if the United States was under attack. Fortunately, I used military exercises. Used excuses to get through.”

"Don't worry, I'll do it next time." Ron replied without sincerity while pushing open the apartment door.

In the room, a woman of average stature and average appearance, but extremely coquettish, immediately stared at her with fiery eyes. Ron had seen this kind of look in the eyes of many women who had sex, but none of them were as sexy as this woman.

"Hello, my name is Christine, what's your name? Little Cowboy~" The woman's hand directly touched Ron's chest, and she had a tendency to press against it.