Chapter 141: The End of the Brazilian Incident
Little did they know that the scene of Hobbs charging into the police station with an AK assault rifle was captured by a journalist who'd rushed to cover the breaking news. The photo was captioned "Liberty Leading the People."
The next day, it graced the front pages of major newspapers worldwide reporting on the Rio de Janeiro uprising. Hobbs successfully debuted center stage, appearing on the desks of world leaders alongside the front-page coverage.
When the Deputy Director saw this photo, his blood pressure spiked dangerously, his face turned purple, and he hurled the newspaper directly at Hobbs.
"I sent you to Brazil to eliminate the cartel disrupting our operations, and you started a goddamn revolution?! Do you have any idea what the President asked me this morning?"
Hobbs looked shell-shocked and shook his head when pressed for an answer.
"You don't know! You know nothing! If I had anyone else available, I'd fire your ass right now. Get out of my sight—as far away as possible. Don't let me see you for a week."
Hobbs looked pathetically toward the door. "Where exactly am I supposed to go?"
"Anywhere!" The Deputy Director, watching dejected Hobbs about to slink away, suddenly felt a spike of anxiety. "Wait! Not Syria, not Afghanistan, not Iraq..."
"Who knows what government you'll overthrow next? We've spent years building those relationships." After rattling off dozens of prohibited destinations, the Deputy Director quickly gulped water. "Go to Alaska or Hawaii."
As Hobbs trudged toward his exile, he kept thinking about V. The build and mannerisms were eerily similar to a certain asshole he knew well.
Especially the way he'd bombed that police station—it was identical! Hobbs would bet his career that Ron would pull exactly the same stunt!
Hell, even the rockets were the same model!
He pulled out his phone and called his contacts at the Bureau: "Tell me what that bastard Ron's been up to lately!"
Intimidated by Hobbs' reputation, despite his temporary suspension, his sources dutifully reported: "Sir, Ron's been on vacation in Hawaii!"
"Book me a flight to Hawaii!"
Meanwhile, far away in Hawaii, Ron, along with his three operatives and Fiona (Carl's guardian), was already in full vacation mode, enjoying the sun, surf, and scenery.
Ron glanced over at Fiona, who was listening to Carl's exaggerated war stories. Their eyes met, and she kissed him without hesitation.
Seeing this, Hank immediately kissed his wife. Arthur's eye twitched. Great, so I'm just here to watch everyone else's PDA!
"Boss, I'm still concerned. What happens to those revolutionaries after we leave? Should we have left them some of our cut?"
After the women and Carl had wandered off, Hank voiced his worries.
"Why should we? Even though it's their money, without me they wouldn't have had the guts to fight back. Consider this their tuition payment."
"But what about their future after we're gone? I'm worried whether that anti-government organization can actually lead them anywhere productive."
"Not my problem. I've given them the key to victory. If they can't use it, that's on them." Ron sipped his tropical drink, adjusted his sunglasses, and settled back comfortably on the beach chair.
"The key to victory? You mean that weapons shipment Orlov sent?" Hank asked curiously.
"No, those I sold to them," Ron waved dismissively. Although he'd split the money they'd stolen from Reyes with his team, he'd still made several times more than them.
He'd signed long-term arms deals with local cartels and rebel groups. Orlov was ecstatic—he'd done nothing and money was just flowing in!
Ron truly was his golden goose!
"Guns eventually break down, ammunition runs out, but ideas live forever, inspiring more people. When everyone awakens, there'll be no more tyranny in this world."
Indeed, along with the mask and costume, he'd also given the rebels two books by thinkers Ron had admired in his previous life.
One was "The Communist Manifesto," and the other was "Guerrilla Warfare Tactics."
If they could fully grasp these texts, they wouldn't just take Rio de Janeiro—they could liberate all of Brazil!
Unfortunately, the peaceful interlude didn't last long. A shadow fell across Ron's face. He opened his eyes to reveal a distinctly large bald head.
"Ron, you son of a bitch! You turned Brazil into a war zone, and you're here living it up?! Do you realize I'm the one taking heat for your mess?!"
"What are you talking about? I have no idea what you mean," Ron said calmly.
Hobbs exploded, "Quit playing dumb! I already checked the hotel. You guys haven't been back for three days. Just admit it—are you V?!"
"What V?" Ron continued his innocent act. The big guy definitely had zero evidence.
"If you're asking about the days I wasn't at the hotel..." Ron gestured toward a gleaming new yacht moored in the nearby harbor. "My team and I were on that boat the entire time. Problem with us going deep-sea fishing?"
Ron's operational method had been taking his crew to Hawaii under the guise of a group vacation, then transferring to Orlov's smuggling vessel at sea before returning to port.
After flying to a private airfield in Rio on a chartered jet, everyone had disguised themselves as airport ground crew and slipped out. Private airports were notorious for lax security—as long as the fees were paid, nobody asked questions.
This way, they'd successfully bypassed all security checkpoints without leaving any entry records. Hobbs could investigate until he was blue in the face and find nothing.
"Impossible! That V was definitely you!"
"Holy shit, when did you buy something that massive!" Hobbs was stunned by Ron's luxury yacht, then quickly refocused. "No, I'm confronting you about V! You are absolutely V!"
"Look, you need evidence to arrest someone, okay? Even with our history, I'll still sue you for harassment, believe me." Ron rolled his eyes. "We've been on that boat for days, even caught a bluefin tuna. I'd show you, but considering your attitude toward me, you don't get any sashimi."
"Wait, where'd you get the money for a yacht?" Hobbs felt he'd found the smoking gun.
"Bonus money, obviously. I have tax documentation—you can verify anytime, though it's not your jurisdiction." Ron shrugged smugly, silently thanking Andy for creating flawless financial records. "You think we IRS agents are as broke as you FBI or CIA guys?"
Hobbs stood there like he'd been hit by a truck, taking maximum psychological damage.
(End of chapter)
If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a Power Stone or Review!
P@atreon/Soulforger (45+ advanced chapters)
Buy me coffee - ko-fi*com/soulforger01