The daily life of American TV agents

Chapter 272 Political Transactions
Ron thought that an arms dealer who had reached such a high status would be a little tougher than ordinary people, but it turned out that he was wrong, and Dunning's reaction was more unbearable than ordinary people.

Just as Ma Wen took out the scissors, he gestured at his crotch. Before he could make a move, Dunning struggled: "Stop! For God's sake, stop!"

"It's so funny, an arms dealer who sells weapons all over the place, and even went down to encourage wars, still believes in God," Ron squatted in front of Dunning and mocked, "Don't you know that if God really exists, If you don't, will you be thrown into hell immediately?"

Marvin continued to move, and the scissors had already cut Dunning's trousers.

"Enough!" Dunning was so frightened that tears flowed: "I said everything, we picked up a young lieutenant, the son of the late Senator James Stanton!"

"Robert Stanton?" Frank pressed Marvin's hand: "The current Vice President of the United States?"

"FXXK! We're in trouble now," whispered Joe.

Ron suddenly punched Dunning on the back of the head. How could Dunning, a bad old man, stand up to Ron's punch?Immediately rolled his eyes and passed out.

After Ron carefully checked that Dunning had passed out, he took off his helmet and threw it on the snow: "That's not necessarily the case, it might be a new turning point."

"A turnaround? How is it possible? Robert is now the vice president! He ordered us to hunt down us!" Frank complained unsteadily.

"You have to understand, Frank, the taller a person stands, the more enemies he has. Maybe one of his enemies is just willing to wipe our ass?"

Ron said pointedly.

"Whatever you plan to do, we should get out now, boss," Joe urged, glancing at his watch.

"Don't worry, isn't there still 5 minutes? It's enough time for us to remember our respected Mr. Dunning," Ron's mischievous interest once flared up, and he took out a tattoo from the toolbox. He handed the tools he used to Marvin: "Marvin, can you draw?"

Marvin was a little confused by Ron's sudden question, but still nodded blankly.

"That's good. Please continue to cut Mr. Dunning's pants and draw him a cute elephant. Remember to make full use of the shape of the object itself, you know?"

In the capital Washington, Francis Underwood, a well-known Democratic congressman, is roasting the stove in his home while thinking about the election plan for next year.

The relationship between him and the current president has dropped to a freezing point, and he is planning to do something next year. Although it is unlikely that he will become the new president in one step, there is still hope for the position of secretary of state or vice president.

It's just that he still needs an opportunity, and just when he was thinking about how to create such an opportunity, his phone rang suddenly.

Francis frowned insignificantly, but when he saw that the call was by Ron's name, his brow parted.

"Ron, I guess you have some good news to tell me, don't you?"

"That's right, BOSS." When it came to such a high-level political topic, Frank and the others consciously distanced themselves: "I have a big dirty piece about your competitor, Robert Stanton, I wonder if you're interested? "

"Tell me about your conditions." Frank got straight to the point.

"I'm planning to do something at Robert Stanton's fundraiser and need someone to help me sneak into their security system, and if I accidentally make things too big..."

"I can also guarantee that nothing will happen to you." Francis took the conversation before Ron finished speaking: "But the premise is that I need to know whether it is worthwhile to help you get this done, or, What kind of benefits can I get?"

The essence of politics is the exchange of interests, which is fully reflected in the conversation between Ron and Francis at this moment.

"How about a vice president with a notorious reputation and a group of hapless arms dealers? But I want their tax collection rights, after all, I still have a lot of people to support."

"No problem," Francis agreed neatly, "Keep working hard, Ron, I value you very much. Goodbye. I'll wait for your good news."

Francis maintained a steady voice, and as soon as the phone was hung up, he excitedly threw his fists in the living room to celebrate.

"How is it? Boss? Have you found your helper?" Joe asked with concern as soon as Ron hung up the phone, and Frank and Marvin also came over.

"Everything is settled, the next stop is Chicago, but this time, we don't have to be so cautious, and we can even find a few more partners."

With the help of Francis, Ron immediately started to do it with great fanfare.

……

Chicago is a city famous for its NBA basketball team, but for the locals, the local gangsters are more famous than the Bulls, and the mayor's surname has almost never changed since the founding of the country.

This city was once prosperous, and although it can't be said to be in decline now, it seems a bit ridiculous compared to other cities that once flourished together at that time.

Drugs and crime are slowly becoming the new face of the city.

Therefore, when two global limited-edition super sports cars drive into the hidden streets in the center of the city, they inevitably arouse the eyes of nearby houses.

Someone had even dug out the guns hidden at home, but before they could take any further action, there were several roars of high-powered engines on the road.

Several cars drove into this remote alley that no one usually cares about. Several men and women who got out of the cars were all armed without exception, and they were not easy to mess with at first glance.

Immediately put out this group of hospitable Illinois residents, and open a welcome party for new friends.

"You were called by Ron too? My God, I'm angry when I see your face. Can you get plastic surgery so that you don't look so annoying?"

The first supercar got off a bald black man, it was Roman, who came to Arthur and started beeping.

Arthur's face is so similar to a terrorist who made him suffer so much, it's no wonder he would have such thoughts, but Arthur is not used to his stink: "Or, I can also put Pull your eyeballs out and stuff them in your anus so that you don't find anything annoying."

"Hey! Do you want Uncle Roman to give you a good lesson? The british bastard?" Roman raised his fist and bluffed, "Believe it or not, a group of us beat you to death?"

(End of this chapter)