Black-Haired Genius Chaebol - Chapter 354
Only Krnovel
Episode 354: NYPD Shows Up in Washington DC?
10 minutes ago.
Inside John Klein’s home.
“Enrique, Rodriguez just arrived outside.”
One of the gang members who was watching out the window inside John Clay’s house signaled to Enrique, who was searching around the house.
Enrique licked his lips and stood quietly in front of the window.
And John Klein waited for him to see him.
As soon as he felt John Klein’s gaze on him, he slowly walked away from the window.
Because you have to give them enough time to look at it.
Cook cook cook.
I couldn’t stand it anymore so I laughed.
“It feels like we’re filming ‘Mission Impossible.’”
“What are you talking about? This is more thrilling. We are the main characters.”
“Oh, right. We’re the main characters.”
Cook cook cook.
I couldn’t help but laugh as I recalled what had happened over the past month or so.
Enrique organized a gang of second-generation Mexican immigrants in Texas.
But while they call themselves a gang, they are really just a sub-organization that transports raw materials for drugs through illegal immigrants who cross from Mexico to the United States.
As a result of his time in transportation, he became familiar with the border and Texas geography.
But an opportunity came to Enrique, who was working odd jobs and dreaming of a bigger organization.
A superior manager whose face I don’t recognize came to see me.
The order was to destroy a dozen fences in Shelby Park within a day.
In return, he gave them $50,000 in advance rather than post-payment.
It was such a simple task for such a large sum of money.
‘What’s so difficult about cutting barbed wire?’
Shelby Park was overcrowded with illegal immigrants and state troops were woefully understaffed.
A new hole was dug some distance from the existing damaged barbed wire to allow illegal immigrants to cross.
The state government troops discovered this and rushed towards it.
Then, they make another hole on the other side and send immigrants through it.
As expected, the provincial government troops are coming.
Then, in another place, and in another place, and so on …
A few days after completing the mission, I was asked to actively participate in the protests in Texas.
This time, he was secretly offered $100,000 as a small hazard pay, since he was participating while carrying a fake gun.
I thought about giving him 100,000 dollars, but the manager didn’t even bother to make a deal and just gave him 100,000 dollars.
I made up my mind that next time I would definitely ask for 200,000 dollars.
And when protesters took control of the entrance to Shelby Park.
This time, he was given a special mission and given $1 million.
Before I could even mention the $200,000, he offered me a million dollars as a deposit.
There was no reason not to do it.
The special mission wasn’t killing anyone or distributing drugs.
All he did was shoot hotel employee Rodgeris in the thigh.
Of course, there were technical issues with getting the bullet to penetrate the flesh without damaging the bone, but it wasn’t all that difficult since it was just a matter of shooting so that it grazed the thigh.
The final climax scene has finally arrived.
Carlos said, nagging.
“Enrique, we have to go now.”
“Okay, we’ll go. Be nice to Carlos and Rodriguez. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“Don’t worry, John Klein is keeping an eye on you.”
Cook cook cook.
Enrique went out, showing his white teeth.
I felt John Klein’s gaze, but I pretended not to notice and looked at the distant mountains.
And then, bang, bang, I heard two gunshots and quickly walked towards the parked car.
And then after a few moments, bang, another shot was fired.
Now, if I leave here with Carlos, it’s over.
what?
An unexpected situation occurred.
To their surprise, a vehicle with an NYPD (New York Police Department) emblem was approaching their car.
Agents were seen inside the car with silencers attached to their guns.
“Fuxx the Bitxx. They gave me a million dollars somehow.”
The million dollar bill was a ploy to cut off the tail.
Squeak.
The 911 vehicle suddenly stopped with its body twisted.
And then quickly, NYPD officers armed with the latest equipment began firing silenced guns at Enrique.
Thud thud thud thud thud.
Fuxx.
Enrique and his men hid behind the car and calmed their racing hearts.
“What? Enrique, is this a deal?”
“Can’t you see? This is where we end!”
At this time.
Dada dadadadadak.
A helicopter approached and stopped over Enrique.
‘Even by helicopter?’
***
Bang, bang.
As Rodriguez ran into the house, Carlos fired two shots as if he had been waiting.
Of course, both feet are blank bullets.
It was just a ruse to keep John Klein out of the house.
Rodriguez gaped at Carlos.
“Carlos, hurry up.”
Rodriguez stuck out his thigh and picked up a piece of clothing lying around, putting it in his mouth.
Carlos approached quickly.
“It’s going to hurt a lot.”
“Stop whining and just shoot quickly.”
Carlos put the gun to Rodriguez’s thigh and took a deep breath.
“Okay, let’s go.”
“eww.”
Rodriguez gritted his teeth and turned his head.
bang.
Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!
A scream escaped Rodriguez’s lips as the bullet passed through his thigh and missed the bone.
Ohhhhhhh! It hurts so much.
I shut my eyes tightly for a long time and endured the pain.
When I could bear it for a while, I raised my head, and at that moment.
Shh.
I could see Carlos’ head collapsing as a bullet pierced it.
“Oh my god,” blood spurted onto Rodriguez’s face.
That wasn’t the end.
Behind the crumbling Carlos, a police officer in NYPD uniform aimed a silencer at Rodriguez.
He smiled broadly and pulled the trigger.
“What the Fuxx.”
Shh.
Rodriguez’s head fell back and he died.
***
The police who dealt with Enrique’s gang approached the police who dealt with Rodriguez.
“All dead, confirmed.”
“This way too.”
And he smiled coldly at John Klein, who was still crouching behind the car, his head buried in the ground.
“I’ll go and talk to you. I’ll finish up the mess.”
“Okay.”
The officer who dealt with Rodriguez approached John Klein.
I gently touched John Klein, who was still trembling and had his head down.
I saw John Klein step back in surprise and raised both palms to signal that it was safe.
And then he took off the mask he was wearing.
“It’s all over.”
John Klein stepped back, checking the Latino cop’s face.
“Hey, are you a police officer?”
“Yes. You may get up now. The surrounding area has been cleared of any hazards.”
“Oh, really?”
John Klein looked around, still uneasy.
“The gang… … are they all dead?”
“yes.”
“Then, what happened to that hotel employee?”
“Unfortunately, he was shot by the gang and died instantly.”
“This, this,”
“Sir, we will take you to a safe place.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
John Klein sighed in relief and sank to his feet.
And then a helicopter was seen taking off carrying something.
***
The next day.
White House.
“Klein, are you okay?”
Biden furrowed his brow and raised his voice in agitated tones.
“What kind of guy would break into the house of the President’s Chief of Staff?”
John Klein gritted his teeth and spoke calmly.
“It was fortunate that the NYPD arrived quickly.”
“NYPD? Not MPDC (Metropolitan Police Department of the District of Columbia)? NYPD shows up in Washington, DC?”
“MPDC?”
John Klein took a moment to recall yesterday’s memories.
‘It was definitely NYPD. Did I see something wrong?’
Now that I think about it, it didn’t make sense for the NYPD to get involved in a Washington, D.C. incident.
Is it possible that a 911 call was made and the NYPD, who happened to be passing by, responded?
Not at all. The chances of that happening are close to zero.
The distance between New York and Washington DC is 400 km.
The NYPD couldn’t get out of New York and come to Washington, D.C., 400 kilometers away.
And Washington, D.C. is an independent administrative district called the District of Columbia, which does not belong to any state, and its security is handled by a metropolitan police department, not a state police department.
The metropolitan police department alone has about 4,600 employees.
There is no need to ask for help from police in other states.
Biden clicked his tongue at the sight of the dumbfounded John Klain.
“Are you still in shock?”
“I guess so.”
John Klein hung his head, berating himself.
Biden patted John Klain on the shoulder.
“It’s okay. We have to do some tough work. Make sure you have security around from now on. There might be more dangerous things happening soon. Just go to the hospital.”
“I guess so.”
***
John Klain paused for a moment after leaving the President’s office.
‘It was definitely NYPD. Did I mistake it for MPDC?’
It was a scene that just wouldn’t go away from my head.
How could anyone have mistaken the blood-stained letters NYPD?
Absolutely not.
after.
“What’s there to worry about? Just contact them.”
Bon Klein took out his phone and called MPDC Director Robert Conti.
Ring ring ring.
-Yes, sir. How are you feeling?
“It’s okay. But Conti, I have something to ask you.”
-Yes, go ahead and ask.
“Is it true that MPDC was dispatched to the scene of the incident yesterday?”
– Of course. Of course we dispatched them. Since you were the one who called 911, we sent a special SWAT (Special Weapons and Tactics Team) team.
“SWAT?”
-yes.
“Does your SWAT uniform by any chance have MPDC printed on it?”
-Yes? Of course not. SWAT is written as SWAT.
‘What is this? It’s a completely different outfit.’
“Then, was I by any chance at the scene of the incident?”
-Yes? Of course. I went to the hospital and handed it over to the doctor. Don’t you remember?
“Hospital? I went to the hospital?”
-Oh, I guess you are in a lot of shock. I clearly received a report that you were taken to the hospital.
“Which hospital is it?”
-Of course, it’s Dr. Marjorie General Hospital.
“Oh, I see. Thank you.”
-Well, sir, it seems like you’re not feeling well. How about going back to the hospital for another thorough examination?
“Oh, yes, I think so.”
-Please do so.
“Yeah.”
-Then I will come back to you again soon to give my statement of the case.
“yes.”
Just as I was about to end the call, John Clay spoke urgently.
“Okay, just a moment.”
-yes.
“By any chance, is there a hotel employee among the dead bodies whose name is… … . Oh, which hospital is Rodriguez in?”
-Are you a hotel employee?
“yes.”
-There was no such person.
“None? You must have confused him with the South American gang. One of them is definitely a hotel employee.”
-South America? All four gangs were white. There were no Latinos.
“Huh? Isn’t that guy with the moustache Latin?”
-Mustache? None of the men had mustaches. They were all older white men. They said they had been fighting each other, and when they arrived, they were all dead.
‘White people? So I’m not just mistaken about the NYPD?’
“Excuse me, Director.”
-yes.
“Can I identify the bodies of those four white men right now?”
-Now?
“Yes, I need to check something right now.”
-Well, that’s not difficult. I’ll send an agent first.
“Yes, please.”
-Okay, I will do that.
John Klein shook his head vigorously after finishing the call.
‘What the heck happened? Is what I experienced not true?’
John Klein pressed hard against his temples, searching his memory, and the hotel suddenly came to mind.
And then I called the hotel.
Ring ring ring.
-Yes, this is the Hey Adams Hotel.
“I am John Klain, Chief of Staff to the President.”
-Oh, yes, sir.
“Yes, I called to ask you something.”
-yes.
“Is there anyone named Rodriguez among the hotel staff?”
-Rodriguez? Um, just a moment.
A moment later, the employee returned to the phone.
and.
-Sir.
“yes.”
-There is no employee named Rodriguez at our hotel. Are you sure his name is Rodriguez?
“No, isn’t that Rodriguez the employee who brought us dinner through room service yesterday?”
-Dinner? I’m sorry, but I think you’ve made a mistake. The manager wasn’t there when room service came yesterday.
“I wasn’t there?”
-Yes. You left the hotel in the evening without checking out.
John Clay dropped the hand holding the phone.
‘What the heck, what on earth happened to me?’