Chapter 199: The Couple Tests
"That's interesting." Ron showed an interested expression: "Go on, I really want to know how they didn't discover each other after so many years."
"Mr. Smith's official identity is a construction contractor. He often travels for business. In reality, he's on missions, you know."
"Mrs. Smith's identity is a tech company executive. She also needs to travel frequently. The time they spend on business trips is just enough to conceal their identities as assassins."
"Wow! Mr. and Mrs. Smith are quite good-looking. They don't need to be killers - they're attractive enough to be movie stars. They could even write a script based on their own story and turn it into a Hollywood blockbuster, starring as themselves."
"There's no more legendary assassin story than this. I've already thought of the movie title: 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith.' Trust me, this movie would definitely be a box office smash."
At this point, if Ron still couldn't tell what movie this was from those two faces that were almost indistinguishable from Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, it would be a waste of his identity as someone who remembered his past life.
These two are quite capable, Ron mused, his chin lifted as he judged by the lingering memories in his mind. He even began to consider the possibility of recruiting them.
His special operations team already had one assassin, so two more wouldn't be a big deal.
If memory served, the witness escort mission was the beginning of the story, and now, the couple should be in the stage of wanting to kill each other, but it was unclear how far along they were.
"Andy, where do the lovely Smiths live now?"
"Anaheim, in a gated community less than three miles from Disneyland. Maybe you could take Carl with you and even show him around the Magic Kingdom," Andy suggested, as gracefully as Alfred serving Batman.
"I'm not going to Disneyland. That's for little kids. I'd rather go to a haunted house attraction. Even target practice at the shooting range is way more fun," Carl said, showing no interest.
"Or maybe dissect a frog in biology class. Dr. Lecter just taught me a new surgical technique, and I haven't tried it yet."
Ron had given Hannibal a position as the base's culinary specialist because of his help in capturing Owen's men. He'd also given the facility maintenance job to another elderly gentleman who bore a striking resemblance to Morgan Freeman.
Ron couldn't figure it out, but lately, Carl seemed particularly fond of hanging out with the two older men, only asking for Ron's guidance when they were practicing at the rifle range.
While there was often a natural bond between different generations in American families, there seemed to be a unique charisma about those two old-timers. When they stood together, Ron felt as if he were seeing an angel and a demon.
"Okay, here's the plan. First, we need someone who can blend into any environment and conduct surveillance, observing the situation."
Ron said this without taking his eyes off Gisele, who could only raise her hand helplessly: "Fine, I'll do it."
"Perfect. You can visit nearby Disneyland while you're there, all expenses covered by the bureau. If you're willing to bring along a kid who's been through some tough times and needs cheering up, I can even cover your babysitting expenses personally."
"I told you, I don't want to go to Disneyland. I want to study anatomy with Dr. Lecter," Carl protested.
"No, I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about my brother," Ron shook his head.
"No problem, what's next?" Gisele happily accepted the assignment.
Even before they'd set out, Ron was already feeling sympathy for her. What a naive girl! God knows how difficult that genius Sheldon is to handle.
"Next, everyone, get your weapons and ammunition ready. We're looking at a major payday! This is definitely going to be huge!" Ron sensed big money, but his team remained puzzled. He could only continue explaining:
"Think about it. Those are two assassination companies. Their previous financial records are definitely not IRS-compliant, and there's massive tax evasion going on. It's practically guaranteed. Even if we seized all the cash in their accounts to pay the penalties, it wouldn't be enough.
Just imagine how much tax revenue we can collect this time? How big of a bonus can we give you with that money?"
"Yeah!" Carl immediately jumped onto his chair and cheered, only to sit down sheepishly when he realized he was the only one cheering.
Of course, it wasn't that the others weren't excited about this, but they were all adults, so they kept their enthusiasm in check.
"So, when do we move out? I can try to find the addresses of those two companies," Arthur also showed enthusiasm for the mission, perhaps because he was recently in a relationship.
Ron had heard from Hank that she was a stunning woman named Gina, even more beautiful than Jessica Alba, and that Arthur was even planning to propose to her.
"Don't worry about it, just follow my plan," Ron insisted. "We just have to wait until both sides deploy their operatives, and whoever managed to escape from the Smiths' crossfire will lead us straight to their headquarters."
"As for now," Ron glanced at the text message on his phone that had been buzzing non-stop, "I'm going to go see my brother who just came home from his little tantrum and will never grow up."
Mary had texted him, saying that Sheldon had been convinced by Leonard and the others to return to Los Angeles, calling it a miracle from the Lord. Ron suspected this was the main reason for Sheldon's return.
At the very moment they made their decision, in an ordinary suburban house in Anaheim, a fascinating test between agents was unfolding.
Mr. Smith drove home at exactly 7 o'clock to find his wife already there, preparing dinner. This caused his initial suspicions to waver.
Was he really overthinking it?
But immediately, he remembered the address he'd traced during his afternoon investigation. The executive roster for that company clearly had his wife's name listed. It couldn't be a coincidence, right?
Although having the same name was pretty common in America.
"You're home early?" Mrs. Smith offered him a glass of wine.
"Because I missed you." But he didn't dare drink it. He could only pour the wine into the potted plant when his wife wasn't looking: "Can we eat now?"
This was another test. If his wife really was working at that company, she shouldn't have had time to come home and cook dinner, right?
However, reality slapped him in the face again: "Of course."
Dinner was already prepared.
(End of this chapter)
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