Chapter 376: Government-Funded Vacation
"Tell me where the nuke is?" The agent raised his weapon, pointing it at the old man in front of him. "Ten seconds, or you're dead."
"Interesting. Think carefully. After my associates and I hid the nuclear device, I eliminated everyone who knew its location. That means only I know where that dangerous package is. So, I bet you won't dare shoot."
The old man smugly downed his whiskey, looking incredibly arrogant. Ron couldn't bear to watch anymore. He'd seen people grandstand before, but never like this. Get your act together, you moron!
This old man was clearly unprofessional. Didn't he know villains die from monologuing?
Sure enough, the next second, as if to prove Ron's assessment, the agent sneezed, his hand trembling, and he accidentally pulled the trigger.
"Bang!" A bloody hole appeared on the old man's forehead; he died in a very anticlimactic way.
"Brilliant, truly brilliant!" Ron clapped his hands sarcastically. "I guess this is the advanced training the White House wants us to learn from the CIA, right? Arthur, make a note: from now on, all our operatives must have a medical screening before field deployment.
Anyone with a health issue is absolutely prohibited from field operations, lest we end up like other agencies, where a sneeze accidentally kills a high-value target."
"Oh my God, oh my God, there must be too much pollen there. He didn't do it on purpose, I can guarantee it," the heavyset woman handler hurriedly explained, spinning her chair around.
"Fine has always been allergic to pollen. I usually put antihistamines in his suit pocket; he probably forgot to take them today."
"This is all my fault. I heard him sneeze earlier, and I should have known this was a red flag. I'll take full responsibility for this mission failure. Watch out! Three hostiles approaching. Exfil through the back entrance immediately, move!"
The woman was halfway through her explanation when she suddenly noticed red dots on her tactical display and quickly returned to her station.
"As she said, it was all an accident. We will strengthen the medical screening of our operatives going forward." The liaison agent's face was pale. "Why don't you come with me to the director's office for a debriefing?"
The liaison gestured for him to follow. Ron glanced at his watch, feeling that he had already wasted enough time here, and smiled as he shook his head and declined, "No need. I think through today's visit, I have a comprehensive understanding of your organization's capabilities. I believe we'll have plenty of opportunities to collaborate in the future."
The liaison's expression had just improved when Ron's next sentence made him so angry that he nearly had an aneurysm on the spot.
"For example, occasionally coming to our IRS offices to do janitorial work, or deliver lunch orders or something. Oh, and especially, share your experience of cohabiting with rodents. I think you should be very experienced at that."
"Rodents? What rodents?"
"Right there." Ron elegantly pointed to the side. A woman in the operations center had a rat crawling on her head that had appeared at some point. She screamed immediately after Ron's observation.
The other women around quickly grabbed whatever weapons they could find, such as binders or keyboards, and threw them at the rat on the woman's head. In an instant, pandemonium erupted.
Whether they caught the rat or not, Ron didn't know, but by the time he left the facility, the woman whose head the rat had crawled on was practically catatonic.
"Hahaha..." Even the usually stone-faced Arthur burst into laughter as he walked out of the CIA building: "Boss, are you absolutely sure this is the CIA's regional headquarters? I think they're even funnier than a Key and Peele sketch.
Thank you, Boss. If it weren't for you, I'd have to pay for a streaming subscription to see this. I would definitely tell Hank how much he missed by not attending this liaison visit."
However, compared to Arthur's amusement, Ron wasn't in such a good mood. Just after he left, he received a message that greatly annoyed him: the case they had just watched the CIA botch was now going to be their responsibility too.
"Okay, whatever makes you happy. I have something even more delightful to tell you."
"What? You actually got tickets to see Key and Peele live? Can you take me with you?" Arthur looked at Ron in disbelief. At that moment, Ron seemed to be surrounded by a holy aura, deeply captivating Arthur.
"No, it's just that the clusterfuck from earlier is now your responsibility." Ron forwarded the mission briefing to Arthur: "Here, this is all the intel for this case. Good luck."
"Boss! This isn't fair! Why is everyone else on vacation while I have to work overtime?! And with those incompetent clowns from the CIA, they're going to get me killed!" Arthur complained loudly in protest.
"Maybe this operation isn't as bad as you think," Ron said, his eyes brightening as he flipped through the mission briefing. "I've decided, I'm going to accompany you on this joint operation!"
"Come with me? Boss, are you sure you're not having a stroke?"
Arthur asked skeptically. He had reason to be suspicious, because Ron was always the last one to arrive and the first one to leave the office, a grandmaster of shirking responsibility, a perfect example of gaming the system.
Now, he was actually volunteering to work overtime with Arthur? That was more impossible than Sheldon entering the NBA draft and leading the Hornets to an undefeated championship!
Ron, however, didn't see it that way: "Want to guess where the next high-value target in the CIA intelligence is located?"
Arthur said irritably, "Where? I don't think he's in the Bahamas, is he?"
"Even better than the Bahamas! See this gorgeous woman?" Ron happily showed Arthur a photo of the target: "Her name is Rayna, and she's planning to go to Paris to meet with a buyer interested in purchasing the nuclear device. In other words, we can use CIA funds to have a nice vacation in the City of Light."
"And I bet she's meeting with more than one buyer. That means, if we're lucky, we could take a ten-day tour of Europe. How about it? Interested in joining?"
Ron extended his hand to Arthur.
Arthur returned the same mischievous grin: "Of course, I'd love to, boss."
Just as the two were chuckling and preparing to exploit the CIA, a figure crashed heavily into Ron. Almost reflexively, Ron elbowed the person in the throat, kicked them hard in the shin, and then swept their legs.
The man fell to the ground. Ron smoothly drew his sidearm and pressed it against the back of his head: "You son of a bitch, who sent you?"
"Hey! Buddy, don't shoot, I'm on your side." The man quickly raised his hands above his head and slowly stood up: "I'm also a CIA operative, Rick Ford, CIA legend."
"Is that so? Turn around and let me see your credentials." Ron tapped his head with the gun barrel, and the man slowly turned around. But when he did, both Ron and Arthur simultaneously showed expressions of utter disbelief.
"What the fuck! What the hell is this?!"
(End of Chapter)
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