Black-Haired Internal Revenue Service SWAT Agent - Chapter 254



Only Krnovel

Late-night highway chase

“So you still haven’t figured out where the $2.1 million is?”

Director Coulson was talking to Inspector Fisher via video conference system while our SWAT team leaders, Team Leader Hancock, Amy, and McGrady were watching.

“Yes, Branch Manager. The FBI Organized Crime Unit has joined us as of yesterday and has begun a joint investigation with CPD and our CID. CPD is conducting a thorough investigation into the vehicle movements of the men who stole the cash, and the FBI is checking to see if there are any rivals or enemies related to the illegal operations of the Durex Corporation men.”

Mr. Coulson answers, then picks up a few M&M chocolate chips from the desk and eats them.

On the large LED screen, Branch Manager Fisher can be seen sighing at the sight.

Then, he looks at us sitting behind Mr. Coulson and shouts.

“Damn, what are you all doing right now?”

When the Irish grandpa started yelling, we looked around to see who he was yelling at.

Soon the branch manager shouts again.

“What are you all doing? While the CPD and FBI are chasing the cash hijackers, our IRS is just sucking its thumb? That $2.1 million was supposed to be seized at the same time as the raid. Don’t you all remember that?”

As we stared at him on the screen for a moment with a ‘So what?’ expression, he spoke to us as if he was chewing us out like before.

“Stop looking at me with such an innocent and stupid expression. Go out into the street right now and look for the hijackers! If you can’t do that, hang around the Chicago police station or the FBI office and check out the progress of the investigation. That $2.1 million isn’t our seized goods, it’s evidence in an armed robbery, and that’s sitting in a warehouse with some old mafia boss. Don’t you get it?”

Just now, I was shocked by what the branch manager just said.

What that gentleman is saying is that the huge sum of money that we announced we would seize before the raid is now evidence in a criminal case, and if the CPD or FBI finds it first, they will try to pocket it.

And even if they claim ownership of those huge amounts of dollars, our IRS won’t be able to say a word.

Ultimately, this means that we may end up participating in a joint investigation into Durex Corporation and then end up cleaning up on our own.

At those words, Mr. Coulson looks over his shoulder at us and shouts like an old man.

“Come on! Come on! Can’t you guys move? Are you waiting for the Chicago downtown tour bus?”

This guy called us all in for a meeting with the branch manager, and now he’s irritating us by collaborating with the branch manager.

We start to get up from our seats one by one in bewilderment, and on the screen, Mr. Fisher starts to get even more annoyed than before.

“Why can’t you guys move? Are you sitting on a fucking chair with a fucking marshmallow on it and your fucking butts stuck to it? Is that why it’s so hard to stand up?”

He was shouting and swearing loudly, and it reminded me of when that guy was our director.

Branch Manager Fisher was reportedly called before the Senate Finance Committee along with the new Treasury Secretary over the Nick Gomez affair.

That’s why I wonder why he’s so irritable towards us.

No, it’s more accurate to say he’s hell-bent on getting his hands on Russell Campbell (CEO of Durex Corporation) to make up for the Nick Gomez incident.

A man and woman in their 30s or 40s, shocked by the Irish old man’s shouting, left the conference room with a brisk pace.

* * *

We split into two teams and moved forward, excluding the Cobalt Team, which remained inside the federal building in case of an emergency.

Team Leader Hancock and Amy went to spy on the Chicago PD, Financial Crimes Unit, while Team Leader Decker, McGrady, and I went upstairs to the FBI’s Organized Crime Unit.

The plan was that once the investigation was unraveled, they would immediately contact the other side to catch the cash hijackers before they did.

The talk of a joint investigation by three agencies is becoming meaningless, but what can we do?

We are federal government employees who have to criticize others if they criticize us.

“Why are you here again? What are you trying to spy on?”

As soon as Torres sees us entering the FBI office, he blurts out a few words, and it makes me feel a pang inside.

He asked as he approached the section where his and his team’s desks were located.

“Did you get anything?”

Torres picked up something from the pile of printed materials on his desk.

Then, as he was about to hand it over, he suddenly stopped as if he remembered something.

“Why are you doing that?”

When I ask him slyly, Torres holds the printout close to his chest and says,

“Hey! The $2.1 million that the thugs stole now belongs to whoever finds it. You know that, right? Even if we all work together on the investigation, the money belongs to whoever finds it.”

Anyway, these vixen FBI guys.

“Okay, I got it. Okay, then give it to me.”

“If the FBI finds the cash first, it’s our evidence, and we can use that $2.1 million to put a gold toilet in our branch bathroom and have our agents drive a Porsche each, but the IRS can’t show up with a calculator and start making a fuss about it. Okay? No way.”

This guy is definitely messing with me right now.

I was possessed by the old Fisher I saw downstairs earlier and yelled at Torres.

“Okay, give them to me, you fucking banana muffin fetishist!”

Torres smiled wickedly when he saw me getting excited.

After that, he handed us the printout, and Team Leader Decker and Mac came over to me and looked at the contents together.

“According to our wiretapping team, Russell Campbell is currently being pressured to make up for the cash that was stolen from other gangs that were delivering it to his warehouse. This morning, the mob boss sent his gunmen to find the van that was carrying the cash, but it was blown up by a bomb planted on the van… They’re wide open right now.”

What Torres gave us was a script of the wiretapping.

Next, he shows us his tablet PC and tells us something new.

“This time, the Durex alley mafia kids were working on another project besides collecting $2.1 million and putting it into laundry….”

Soon, McGrady takes Torres’ tablet PC and continues what he says in a possessed tone.

“They are hacking and clearing out the accounts of elderly people with large sums of money deposited in them.”

“The old people’s accounts?”

Torres picks up a bag of banana muffins, takes a muffin out of it, and explains to me instead of Mac.

“There are cases where elderly people who were in the military or police department hide their assets or give them to their family in order to get the state and federal government subsidized nursing home expenses. Some elderly people who don’t have family hide their assets to make them look low-income, and there are lawyers and accounting firms that help them do this. Hey, Kim! But~, what the hell, you IRS people are doing that you’re listening to me explain this to you?”

“hey!”

As I straightened up and said something, Torres continued speaking while holding a banana muffin.

“Anyway, we hack into those retired people’s hidden retirement funds and life savings and take them all into that bastard Russell Campbell’s hidden pockets.”

Soon after, Team Leader Decker also gets the hang of it and says.

“Seniors have reported to the IRS, nursing homes, and medical expense agencies that they have no more than the low-income threshold, so it’s unlikely they’ll be able to report it to the police if that money is stolen through hacking.”

Mac finishes his explanation by handing me the tablet PC.

“If this hacking is successful, another few million dollars will end up in Russell Campbell’s pocket. Maybe Campbell will use the money from the hack to pay back the money the gang robbed from his warehouse.”

Torres takes a bite of his muffin and mumbles.

“CPD’s Financial Crimes Unit says this isn’t the first time they’ve hacked into retirement funds like that. They’ve done it three times in the past five years, in California, Arkansas, and here in Chicago. If they pull this off, it’ll be the fourth cyber-cash hijacking, those back-alley mafia guys.”

Russell Campbell’s hacking team has been active for a long time, consisting of five hackers.

These hackers were also such heavy drug addicts that they always received their share of the profits they made through hacking in the form of drugs.

Today, at midnight, they were hacking as they always do, inside a large trailer truck traveling on the highway.

The reason for conducting hacking operations using satellite communication networks on highways with multiple exits was obviously because there were many advantages.

The trailer truck would then exit to the nearest freeway exit immediately after the hacking operation was completed, or if police or FBI pursuit was detected.

Then, the hackers and the rest of the organization dispersed and fled in all directions, which was their modus operandi.

Today, Russell Campbell was set to make a significant amount of extra money in the same way.

However, one thing that was different from before was that today, SUVs with armed members of the organization were moving together in front and behind the trailer trucks.

It was late at night and traffic was light on the six-lane I-94 highway.

The trailer truck on which the hacking operation was being carried out was driving at a constant speed in the third lane, and the SUV following it had three members of the organization riding in it, just like the lead vehicle in front of the truck.

“Fuck!”

When the gang member ‘Sean Monte’ sitting in the passenger seat suddenly shouts, the gang members in the driver’s seat and the back seat glance at him.

Monte, a mafia gunman in his fifties, was irritated by the explosion of a large van inside an abandoned warehouse that morning and the memory of Russell Campbell’s adventures.

Not only was his men ambushed by thugs in a warehouse and robbed of $2.1 million, but now he was getting on his nerves that they were powerless against Russell Campbell.

Then, he expressed his feelings to his subordinates without hiding them.

“Damn, if you were robbed of that much money, you should have fled immediately. Are you all crazy for carrying out hacking operations like this?”

After saying that, he let out a long sigh.

Then, the subordinate who was driving cautiously spoke to me.

“Calm down, boss. But to make up for the money you stole, you’ll have to hack your way into it like this. If I can get through today without any problems, won’t things get a little better?”

At his words, Monte took a deep breath, trying to calm his upset stomach.

And moments later, he noticed in his passenger side mirror a highway patrol SUV approaching from behind them.

He immediately took out the hand microphone from the radio installed under the dashboard and warned everyone.

“Two highway patrol vehicles are approaching from behind. Everyone, please drive at a constant speed and avoid attracting the attention of the Five-0 guys.”

A moment later, the trailer truck ahead and the escort vehicle in front of it responded.

“Ten for!”

“Razor that!”

As the patrol cars neared their location, Monte and the man in the backseat pulled the trigger on their MP5KA4 submachine guns (a shortened version of the MP5 submachine gun).

Their tactic was to fire bullets at patrol cars and then flee.

The lead patrol car started to drive right alongside their SUV, and the gang members watched it as naturally as possible.

Soon, the lead patrol car accelerated toward the trailer truck, and a second patrol car approached, also driving alongside Monte’s SUV.

“Be as natural as possible. The guys in the patrol car are scanning the inside of our vehicle.”

Monte muttered, holding the pistol grip of the submachine gun resting on his knees tightly.

But immediately after, the passenger side window of the patrol car running alongside them rolled down.

The passenger side window of the patrol car rolled down completely, seemingly oblivious to the cold wind blowing into the car.

“Those guys now…huh?”

Monte looked over the driver’s seat toward the patrol car driving to their left, and was startled.

The man sitting in the passenger seat of the patrol car was wearing his highway patrol uniform, but he was wearing a large, comical mask on his head.