Chapter 187: HELLO, Mr. Thompson
"Have you really thought this through? Do you really want to go to the damn North Pole with Sheldon? Are you sure you can actually stand Sheldon? For three whole months!"
"Of course, don't forget, I'm Indian. My religion tells me that the suffering I endure in this life will be rewarded to me in the next life as blessings."
Raj said eagerly, "After three months of Arctic training with Sheldon, I can be reborn as a super-rich guy with a hot body and the ability to fly!"
Ron rolled his eyes. "You mean a playboy like Tony Stark?"
"Yes, exactly. Or Bruce Wayne from Gotham," Raj added.
"Gentlemen, have you made your decision?" Sheldon asked as he walked out of his bedroom.
"I'm in." "Me too." "Count me in."
The three friends agreed. Finally, everyone turned their attention to Ron, who helplessly spread his hands. "Why are you all looking at me? I'm not essential to this expedition. They could easily find someone else to handle security."
"It's not exactly a groundbreaking discovery. There's no need for me to tag along, unless you find a giant robot frozen beneath the Arctic ice that can transform into a jet fighter."
"Oh, Ron," Leonard sighed, trying to convince him that if Ron came along, Sheldon might be more manageable.
Of course, Sheldon hoped so too, but his reasoning was more because he'd been with Ron long enough to be accustomed to having such a strong older brother's protection.
"Don't look at me like that, Sheldon," Ron shrugged. "You're a grown man now. You don't want me protecting you like when you were little, do you? Unless you admit you're still a child."
"No way! I can take care of myself without you!" Sheldon pouted angrily.
"Yeah, that's right, it's settled. Have a safe trip!" Ron patted Sheldon's shoulder with satisfaction and swaggered out of the apartment.
"Don't tell Mom. Go for it, little brother!"
For some reason, Sheldon felt like he'd been tricked again as he watched Ron leave.
Inside, Raj was still asking when they'd leave so he could go home and pack. Sheldon snapped out of his daze and said, "Just a friendly reminder - since I'm the leader of our expedition, you're supposed to say 'Yes, Captain' first. Don't forget that again."
Howard, taking advantage of Sheldon's turned back, made a gesture like he was loading a crossbow and shooting Sheldon with one bolt.
Ron had already taken a leisurely drive to LAX, carrying nothing but his wallet and ID. He planned a spontaneous trip to relax and unwind.
On the way, he used his phone to look up vacation spots suitable for single men, but no matter how many times he searched, the results kept suggesting Vegas strip clubs and Miami beach parties.
Miami, perhaps? Ron had heard it was a paradise for single guys, and with his government salary, he could definitely afford some fun there.
With this in mind, Ron called Andy to inform the Special Operations Team about his vacation and to give everyone a generous Christmas bonus.
Even Carl got a share, and the holiday officially began.
"Miami, here I come!" Ron exclaimed, boarding the plane.
Going to Miami for vacation was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but on reflection, it seemed like a great one. Although Ron was fluent in Spanish from his Texas upbringing, English would be more than enough for a trip around South Beach.
And if he really needed a local guide, didn't he have his old army buddy there?
Tommy Thompson, the private investigator rumored to be the best detective in Miami's Little Havana.
This army buddy's life story was quite rough. He was once a quiet farm kid from Iowa, considered the black sheep by everyone in his small town.
Of course, his problems could also be due to the trauma of witnessing his father's death in a farming accident when he was just a kid.
Taking pity on him, his drill sergeant took him under his wing during basic training and taught him investigative skills. After completing his service, he returned to Iowa briefly. It's said he got married once, but the marriage wasn't particularly happy.
Shortly after his wedding, he headed to Miami alone. Ron suspected his wife had cheated on him. Ever since he first met this army buddy, he'd noticed a suspicious, paranoid look in his eyes.
Could it be that the military had given him trust issues? That was pure speculation.
Meanwhile, the Miami-Dade Police Department was in chaos.
Of course, it wasn't Ron's arrival - in reality, this trip was his personal getaway, and he hadn't alerted any officials.
The real cause of chaos at the Little Havana precinct was a murder connected to a drug money heist.
Detective Rodriguez, in charge of the narcotics case, was directing operations at the scene when one of his subordinates suddenly announced, "Detective Rodriguez, Captain Morrison's here!"
As soon as he finished speaking, a middle-aged man with a beer gut, clutching a greasy burger and a Diet Coke, swaggered into the crime scene.
"Thanks, Rodriguez, thanks for securing my crime scene."
"Thanks for nothing!" Detective Rodriguez slapped Morrison's greasy hands away disapprovingly.
"This is my precinct, so of course it's my case."
"I've been investigating this drug money heist for three months, and we were about to catch the perps red-handed. Now the cash is gone, and you're claiming it's your case!"
Detective Rodriguez pointed at Morrison and shouted in frustration.
"Don't you understand jurisdiction? Whoever's turf it happens on gets the case!" Morrison shouted back, his mouthful of food spraying into Rodriguez's face.
"Say that again, and I'll deck you!"
"Go ahead, bring it on, who's scared of who?"
...
At Miami International Airport, a pale college kid waited anxiously with his suitcase. Meanwhile, a middle-aged man with a weathered face, holding an old flip phone, compared photos for a long time before finally confirming the identity.
"Quinn Foster?" The pale kid turned his head, and the man rushed over and bear-hugged him: "Haha, welcome to Miami, I'm your cousin Tommy Thompson!"
"Sorry to keep you waiting. You know I'm a great detective. I'm super busy with cases~" As he said that, Tommy took Quinn's suitcase, but didn't take him out of the airport. Instead, he stayed put and continued waiting.
"I, I... why aren't we leaving yet? Are we..." Quinn stammered and was interrupted by Tommy.
"You want to ask why we're waiting here instead of leaving? Right? So you do have a stutter."
Quinn opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly cut off by Tommy: "Don't worry, we'll leave soon. I have another army buddy who's also coming to Miami to party. We're waiting for him."
"Army buddy?"
"Yeah, the buddy he's talking about is me." Quinn hadn't finished stuttering when Ron and a beautiful woman emerged from the other side of the terminal and walked over.
"Holy crap! You speak Spanish!" Quinn was shocked.
"What's so weird about that? As a Texan, is it strange to speak Spanish?" Ron shrugged and continued in Spanish:
"Don't you know that song? 'Living la vida loca, she's into superstitions...'"
Ron's enthusiasm was piqued, and he immediately started singing a Ricky Martin hit.
Quinn stared with a bewildered expression.
It wasn't strange that a white guy could speak Spanish. What was strange was that this guy could also sing Latino pop songs more fluently than Quinn himself could speak English.
"I forgot to tell you, my army buddy isn't just a fighter, but also a musician. Many of his songs have been covered by famous artists," Tommy said with a proud expression, and extended his hand toward the beautiful woman next to Ron in a sleazy manner: "Miss, what's your name?"
"I'm Cuban-American and I don't speak much Spanish," the woman politely shook Tommy's hand briefly, then quickly pulled away as if she'd been shocked, and continued in English: "You can call me Sofia like Ron does."
"Ron, I have to run, catch you later!" Sofia waved to Ron, turned and left, and Tommy was still staring at Sofia's figure with lustful eyes as she walked away.
Ron blocked his view irritably: "Stop staring! I can't even handle a woman like that, so you don't stand a chance."
"Oh my God, is there any woman in this world you can't handle? Who is this chick?" Tommy said in shock.
"Sofia, my Harvard classmate. She's now a famous fashion designer. She's incredibly picky and only has feelings for her high school sweetheart."
Ron grimaced, leaving out a crucial detail. He'd actually pursued Sofia during college, but got shot down. It was the first time he'd ever been rejected by a woman.
Although Ron had always been surrounded by beautiful women, as someone who appreciated Latin culture from his Texas upbringing, he still had a soft spot for Latina women.
It's just that most Cuban-American girls in the US are too Americanized, lacking the traditional warmth associated with Latin culture. It wasn't until college that Ron met Sofia, and even then, he struck out after asking her out.
What a waste.
However, the crazy thing was that, on the plane to Miami, he miraculously found himself sitting next to Sofia again.
"Hahaha, I can tell she burned you good. Don't worry, there are plenty of girls like her in Miami. Spend a few days with me, and I guarantee you won't even remember her last name."
Tommy burst into laughter, but quickly stopped after receiving a death glare from Ron.
"Well, I'm here on vacation anyway, so why don't you tell me what you've got planned?" Ron crossed his arms and studied Tommy critically.
"Of course, of course, I've already mapped out your whole week!" Tommy pulled out a stack of brochures from his jacket and stuffed them into Ron and Quinn's hands.
"South Beach, the Art Deco District, a Marlins game, tomorrow I'll take you to Miami's most famous - the Everglades, how about it, buddy?"
Tommy's face was full of pride, like a kid waiting for approval.
"I want to see the Coral Castle." Quinn raised his hand weakly to express his opinion.
"What's that?" Ron and Tommy stared at the pale kid together.
"It's this mysterious limestone structure built by one guy. Very CSI Miami kind of stuff."
"Geez, how boring, your cousin is such a buzzkill." Ron waved his hand dismissively.
"I heard from your mom that you're always into that weird stuff. I told you that detective shows are just for nerds like you! If you like detective work, come with me and work a missing persons case right now!"
"Really? Can I really work a case with you?"
Tommy patiently tried to convince his young cousin. If Ron didn't know him well, he'd definitely mistake him for a good mentor.
"Of course it's true! But you follow my lead. Buddy, you want in?"
Ron quickly shook his head. "You guys handle the investigating. I'm sick of work. How about you point me toward some fun instead?"
"Bro, where's the hottest nightclub in Miami?"
"What's mine or yours? When you come to Miami, you're my guest. I've already got a place picked out to welcome you! As for the investigation, I'll take my cousin with me tomorrow. Buddy, why don't you just go have some fun?"
Ron nodded casually.
But he would soon regret his hasty decision.
Because he'd been dragged to a strip club with terrible music, listening to Tommy's off-key karaoke all night long!
All while various local girls in skimpy outfits were all over him.
If Ron remembered correctly, according to local customs, these were called dancers, except these dancers weren't exactly the classy kind.
Anyway, you could pay for private dances, and Ron couldn't even guarantee they were all actually women.
Because the kid Quinn had come back from the bathroom and told him that he'd just encountered another "woman" in the men's room, and her equipment was bigger than his!
"Calm down, calm down, this is Miami, drag queens are totally normal," Ron could only reassure him, and himself at the same time.
Damn it, if he'd known earlier, he would have shamelessly followed Sofia back to her place. Tommy was such a disaster. He wasn't reliable during basic training, and he'd become even less reliable after all these years.
Ron clearly saw him slip something into Quinn's drink when he wasn't looking. Even without being an expert, he knew there was something sketchy in that drink.
Tommy certainly didn't mean any harm, but Ron still declined the offer. He thought it was too risky. He had clean fun back home, so he didn't need to mess around with this kind of wild stuff.
It was terrifying.
(End of chapter)
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