Daily life of an American TV drama agent

Early the next morning, Ron was called to the general manager's office on his second day at work. The reason was of course related to his special performance yesterday. Before him, Bullet and Dave had been questioned separately.

"Hello, Mr. Morgan." The general manager in a suit greeted with a professional fake smile on his face. In addition to him, the HR director who interviewed Ron and an assistant were also here.

"Hello, general manager, if you called me here today to thank me for my outstanding performance yesterday, I want to say, 'You're welcome, if you can, just discount it.' I almost saved the company yesterday. 15 million U.S. dollars and two lives, you can just reward me with tens of millions."

"Sorry, Mr. Morgan..."

"If you don't have tens of millions, it's not a bad idea to spend a few million for a while." Ron looked at the manager across from him who was getting more and more embarrassed, and his face began to look ugly: "No way, right? It's not like we can't spend even a few dollars in a row." Not even a million, right?!”

When Ron said this, the general manager's face became even more embarrassed: "There is no precedent for this, because in the previous robbery incident, all the escorts died, so there is no precedent. Maybe the company will reward a few hundred in the future..."

"Um?"

Ron glared out of habit and moved his hands to his waist. The general manager was frightened and quickly changed his words: "Several thousand..."

"Um?"

“Ten thousand dollars, really can’t be more!”

"Okay, ten thousand is fine. Let's first say that this is the amount I will get after tax. I will never pay a cent of tax on this bonus." Ron added.

"No problem, I swear." The general manager raised a hand helplessly.

"Okay, that's no problem. Let's talk about it when the prize money is distributed, and I'll go back first. I have a bye today and I'm going home from work for target practice. Goodbye."

"Okay, walk slowly...wait a minute!" Halfway through, the manager suddenly realized something was wrong: "We didn't call you here to tell you about this. I want to talk to you about how you killed six people by yourself. The robber himself was still unscathed."

"Yes, I have to say, this is amazing." The fat HR manager next to him, who had been silent at first, said, "He saved his partner's life."

"How about your experience with guns? Your marksmanship is very accurate, but your performance on the training ground is average." The general manager's eyes were sharp, trying to see something from Ron's face.

But the result disappointed him, Ron's expression was all the same.

Are you kidding me? Moen's psychological quality means that even when faced with the most vicious terrorists, he can kill them all with a straight face, not to mention the white-collar workers who sit in the office all day long and have never seen blood.

"Maybe it's because I'm not comfortable with weapons? I prefer revolvers to automatic pistols. Although the Colt Python is good to use, it would be better if it was a Smith \u0026 Wesson."

"Did he use an automatic pistol during the previous test?" the manager asked quietly to the side.

"Yes, Glock 17, this is the gun we use in the training ground."

The general manager nodded. This statement was barely recognized by him. It is true that some people will achieve better results with more convenient weapons.

"Okay, I will report your request to the company. I believe that I will be able to equip you with a more convenient weapon soon, but for now, we would like to ask you to take a look at this video."

The general manager turned the laptop screen over: "This is the surveillance video of a previous raid at Fortis Security Company, the time the guard was killed. We hope you can tell us whether there is any difference between this robbery and the previous raid. connect?"

On the computer screen, a group of losers wearing janitor clothes killed the guards of the cash transport truck one by one, and then threw the money bag by bag onto the cargo box of the pickup truck. There were two robbers in the middle who looked up. lens.

"Mr. Morgan, what do you think of this group of people?"

"I'm very sure that this group of people has no connection with this attack. They are much more powerful than the fools this time. It will be very troublesome for me to run into them."

Ron frowned and said, he noticed that from the beginning of the robbery to the loading of the money into the car and transportation away, the whole process was extremely smooth, as if it had been rehearsed many times in advance.

What's more interesting is that both the offensive formation and the gestures used by teammates to communicate with each other are very similar to those commonly used by the US military. In other words, these people are likely to come from the military.

The general manager asked worriedly: "Are you sure? They really have nothing to do with this attack?"

"Sure, very sure." Ron nodded.

If before watching this video, Ron had almost concluded that Bullet was the mole, but after watching this video, he began to waver in his previous guess.

If the bullet is really a mole, then why not ask this group to continue? The fewer people who knew about robbing a cash transport truck, the better. From all angles, there was no reason for him to find a bunch of amateurs to do it.

"Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Morgan. That's it for today's conversation. We'll talk about it another day. I wish you a nice day."

"Is this the end?" Ron asked in shock.

"Yes, we are done talking." The general manager was relieved: "Do you have anything else?"

"Shouldn't you tell me when the bonus will be paid out?"

"Well, someone will communicate with you after this. Our conversation ends here." The general manager put away the computer and left the office with his assistant without looking back. Only Ron and the fat man in charge of personnel were left in the room.

"So you are the one who gave me the bonus he said?" Ron asked curiously, staring at the fat man.

"No, I'm looking for you for other reasons." Fatty quickly shook his head: "I don't have any rules. The psychologist recommends that employees who have just experienced violent incidents need to be transferred from the front line for a week. If someone dies, it will take longer, so I I will temporarily change your job for you."

"But don't worry, it won't take long. Because of your performance, the boss appreciates you very much. I promise you that you can come back in a week at most."

"As long as you pay me my salary as usual, I don't mind even if you let me go home to rest. Do I know what the new job is for me?" Ron asked.

There had just been a robbery incident, and as long as Nahuo Professional Weight Loss was not stupid, he would not choose to start working immediately, so Ron didn't mind taking a few days off temporarily.

"Don't worry, it's definitely a good job," the fat man said seductively, "What do you think of becoming a bodyguard?"

"bodyguard?"

"Yes, they are bodyguards. Our Futong Security Company's business is not just about transporting money. In fact, we also undertake private security business," the fat man said with a proud look: "The target is a beautiful woman, and her identity is Gao Gui, I remember that your information stated that you are single. If you can seize the opportunity, you will know."

The fat man winked at him obscenely, took out a box of pills from the drawer and handed it to Ron, showing an expression that every man would understand: "This contains a large dose of small blue pills, which can be called the fighting brother of Viagra. Be sure." Take your chance, man."

At the same time, on the other side of Los Angeles, in an unknown library that had been abandoned.

"Over there in the grain pile, did you hit it? Little bear." Finch spoke in authentic Henan dialect and pushed away the big dog that jumped on him.

That proficient look is heartbreaking. Thanks to Ron, since this dog was brought back from Ron, he has completely forgotten his original Dutch, so Finch and Reese had to learn Chinese by themselves. Henan dialect in .

"Mr. Reese, can you tell me why the dog must be kept here?"

"The little bear is very good, you will definitely like it, and if anyone dares to provoke you again, he will help you eat them alive." Reese took advantage of Finch not paying attention and secretly hid the information just placed on the table: " We have a new number again.”

"Sofia Campos, 21 years old, is the daughter of Herbert Campos, a Brazilian diplomat who works at the Consulate in Los Angeles. As a dependent of a diplomat, she has a temporary social security number."

Rise said as he stood up and gave up his seat next to the computer. Although he specializes in the arts, Finch is better at finding information.

"Let me take a look," Finch's fingers clicked on the keyboard, and Sophia's information immediately appeared on the computer screen:

"Sofia was born in Sao Paulo and received education in Switzerland. She can speak six languages. Her mother died of cancer five years ago, so she postponed her plan to study in Oxford and accompanied her father to three different places to take office. Her father's political party Having been criticized for fraud in the last election, and with no shortage of politically motivated kidnappings in their home country, it was no surprise that she was in danger.

There is news that his father will run for president of Brazil this year. If someone wants to deal with her father, starting with his daughter may be a good choice. "

In Brazil, being a politician is a high-risk job because the country's economy is deeply tied to the drug trade. Gangs have the final say in almost half of Brazil's neighborhoods, and these politicians have to compromise with the gangs.

"Well, it's another damn political conspiracy. No wonder she has bodyguards," Rise complained, using another computer to take over the camera that was monitoring Sophia. Immediately, he saw a familiar figure on the screen: "Finch , do you want to guess who his bodyguard is?"

"I can directly see the information of her bodyguard. Arthur Morgan, an outstanding security guard of Fortis Security Company, just subdued six gangsters in a cash truck robbery case... Wait! This picture The face is...Ron?"

Finch was surprised to find Ron's face in the column of Mr. Morgan's photos.

Riese asked, "What do we do now?"

"First of all, we need to confirm whether Ron wants this poor girl's life. If not, then I believe this girl will be the safest person in the world..."

"Is your surname Morgan? What does it have to do with Morgan on Wall Street?" Sophia lay in Ron's ear and exhaled, almost focusing her whole body on Ron.

On the first day of Ron's bodyguard job, his employer was fascinated by his outstanding appearance. In Sophia's words, it was love at first sight for Ron.

Anyone else would probably feel happy if the daughter of a diplomat was cheating on her, but Ron only found it troublesome.

"It doesn't have anything to do with it. Just think about it. If I were really the son of the Morgan family, I wouldn't come out to work as a bodyguard, right?" Ron helplessly straightened Sophia's body, pulled away a little and said seriously: : "Miss Sophia, please respect yourself, I'm just a bodyguard."

"A very handsome and charming bodyguard, would you like to take me to the nightclub with you?" Sofia begged Ron with her eyes flickering.

"No, this is not within the scope of my bodyguard's work, and your father has also told me. Don't let me take you to any shady places, lest your competitors take bad photos and take advantage of them. .”

"What a man who doesn't understand amorous feelings." Sophia rolled her eyes.

"Not only is it charming, it's a good comment for a bodyguard. I'll take it as your compliment and accept it."

As Ron spoke, he stretched his hand back to grab an unfamiliar wrist, and then swung it forward. At the same time, he stretched out his foot and stumbled underneath. A man's body was thrown in front of Sophia's exclamation. on the floor.

, before the man on the ground could react, Ron grabbed his arm and pushed it upwards, using joint techniques to pin him to the ground: "I don't think sneak attacks from behind are what friends should do. As you What do you think? Mr. Reese?"

Reese looked a little embarrassed: "You're right, Morgan, I just wanted to make a joke with you."

"Do you know each other? Is he also a bodyguard for your company? Oh my God, how many bodyguards did my father hire for me?" Sophia looked at the two people who called each other by name and asked with some confusion.

Of course, Ron would not expose Rise here: "Yes, we are the bodyguards of a company, but he was not hired by your father for you, but by our security company to ensure that each customer receives the top security service. , he was the random inspector for the temporary security inspection conducted on the bodyguards at work."

Ron made nonsense and gave Rise an identity. Of course, Rise said, "Yes, I am a random inspector for Fortis Security Company. Your alertness is qualified, Mr. Morgan." Rise said with some embarrassment. He took out a notebook from his pocket: "Miss, can I borrow your bodyguard's time for two minutes? I need him to sign the inspection form."

"sure."

Reese pulled Ron to the corner of the store: "What are you doing? Why did you suddenly become a bodyguard? Are you going to kill that woman?"

"How is that possible? I'm just a tax collector, not a killer. Let me guess, the machine spit out a new number again, right?" Ron showed a playful expression: "Do you want to work another part-time job? ?No salary, no authority, which you don’t need anyway, but it allows you to achieve your goal and protect this woman."