American Tax Officer - Chapter 93
Chapter 93: Chapter 88: Reward for Merits, 100,000 for Each Group
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109 Monarch Avenue, “DA Nightclub”.
It was one of the largest and most luxurious nightclubs in the Lake District, under the banner of the Ditter Family.
At that time, an SUV stopped at the entrance, and Baldwin got out, walking in amid the greetings of many underlings at the door.
Upon entering the nightclub, a wave of hot air hit him, mixing with the scents of alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat.
Under the dim lighting, people in fancy clothes held their drinks, swaying in the dance floor with the lights streaking across the ceiling like shooting stars, casting their frenzied shadows.
In the center of the stage, a singer performed passionately, their voice piercing through the crowd, straight to the heart, as dancers on the stage sweat profusely, each move filled with wild abandon.
Baldwin didn’t linger, heading straight to the door of a private room on the second floor, where two burly men in suits stood guard.
Baldwin asked, “Is Dieter inside?”
“What’s it about?”
“There’s been a slight issue with a deal, I need to report the situation to him!”
The two men exchanged glances, and then the one who spoke before responded, “He’s high as a kite right now, probably won’t listen to you!”
“I don’t care, I need to see him now!”
Seeing how adamant Baldwin was, the guard hesitated for a moment, but eventually stood aside.
Baldwin immediately pushed the door open, and the scene that met his eyes was a total mess.
Bottles and fruit platters were scattered on the ground, remnants of white powder lay on the tables, and a dark-skinned man with a prominent nose, his thick hair tied into a ponytail, was flanked by a seductive woman on the sofa, all three of them nodding to the music.
Baldwin’s brows furrowed slightly, and he walked forward to turn off the music, bringing the nodding trio to a semblance of sobriety.
The man there roared like a lion, “Fake Yau, you turned off my DJ, I’ll kill you!”
As he said this, he stumbled about searching for his handgun.
But before he could find it, Baldwin rushed over, grabbed his shoulder, shook him, and said, “Dieter, it’s me!”
“Damn it, Baldwin, it’s you…”
Dieter sobered up a bit, but still remained in an angry state.
“Listen, there’s been a problem with the goods…”
Baldwin briefly recounted what had happened at the chemical plant.
But Dieter, high as he was, didn’t fully grasp the situation. He only understood that someone had stolen their goods and they were being asked to pay 1.58 million for them back.
This sent him into a rage, exclaiming, “Fake Yau, in all of Las Vegas, who dares to rob Dieter’s goods! Baldwin, I’m giving you one day, get the goods back by tomorrow, or else I’ll have you killed!”
Baldwin was taken aback and then responded with a hint of grievance, “But Dieter, it’s the National Revenue Service…”
“Fake Yau, I don’t care if it’s the National Revenue Service or the police station, if you don’t get the goods back, I’ll kill you!”
Seeing Dieter almost losing his mind, Baldwin, in the end, couldn’t argue and left with a face full of gloom.
Meanwhile, on the Mexico Gang’s side.
Zimmerman, who had been out of the picture for a while, also received the news.
When he heard the goods were snatched, he too was furious, but learning that it was the National Revenue Service’s doing, he was dumbfounded!
“Boss, that David also had a message for you, saying…”
Richard relayed exactly what David had told him beforehand.
And when Zimmerman heard that they would have to pay taxes on time from now on, or else the National Revenue Service would eliminate their hideouts, seize their venues, and arrest their people, he was also overcome with rage.
“What does the Dieter side say?”
“Baldwin says they will handle it, so I think we should not act rashly for the time being. After all, I’ve heard that the National Revenue Service of America is not to be trifled with!”
Zimmerman fell silent.
Anger aside, it was not by brute force alone that he had managed his operations in Las Vegas for so many years, but more importantly by his cunning.
After all, the National Revenue Service is an official institution. If they dared to clash with government officials, it surely would not end well.
But it was different for Dieter.
The Dieter Family had deep roots in Las Vegas and had the status of Native Americans. If they took the lead to negotiate with the National Revenue Service, it would certainly be more effective than if the Mexico Gang did it themselves!
With this thought, Zimmerman discarded any other plans and decided to watch the changes quietly and see what happens, as Baldwin had suggested.
…
A night passed quietly.
The next morning, Director David took a cab to the department.
As he got out and walked toward the building, suddenly a black Cadillac stopped behind him.
Then, a brawny man in a suit and sunglasses got out of the driver’s seat, opened the inner door, and Selina stepped out.
Seeing this, a hint of curiosity appeared between David’s brows.
The brawny man’s demeanor and pace were very similar to Nisen and Bucky’s, seeming like a military man who had retired from some special forces.
And such a person was now acting as a chauffeur, indicating that this Selina might hold significant weight within the Kennedy Family.
“Hi Director David, it’s early, isn’t it,” Selina said.
Selina hadn’t expected to run into David, so she seemed a bit surprised.
David replied, “Yeah, how about you, did you sleep well last night?”
From her resume, David knew that Selina had come from somewhere else, so his question was also an expression of a superior’s care for a subordinate.
