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American Tax Officer-Chapter 655 - 330: The Feast at Hong Gate
Chapter 655: Chapter 330: The Feast at Hong Gate
“This… well, alright then.”
Seeing Henrietta so determined and noting the absence of objections from the others present, Langman had no choice but to agree, albeit reluctantly.
“After Langman steps out to call for the abolition of the Black Tax Bill, Mitchellson, Holdes… you need to follow suit and echo the sentiment to amplify the momentum!”
Henrietta then proceeded to call out the names of seven or eight people in attendance.
Although those called out showed a hint of bitterness on their faces, none dared to defy the will of the Freemasonry Group’s leader and ultimately nodded in agreement.
“Joshua, Prescott, and the rest of you shouldn’t idle around either. The Black Tax Bill is related to countless wrongdoers. To gain their votes, many legislators would be willing to take the risk. Like Phipps and his colleagues previously, your job is to lobby them. As long as they’re willing to join us, provide them with the money or resources they need. Understood?”
...
As the leader of the Freemasonry Group, Henrietta of course realized that the reason Phipps had previously spoken up against the Black Tax Bill was merely to secure the support of the votes from those wrongdoers.
As long as they can lure these legislators with the right incentives and combine that with their power in Congress, the abolition of the Black Tax Bill has a great chance of success.
“Alright, leave it to us!”
This was a matter that could affect the life or death of the group, hence Joshua and the others agreed unanimously without hesitation.
“Good, the meeting is adjourned. Act quickly, and keep me posted on any developments!”
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Poor David was still unaware that on the eve of his new appointment, Freemasonry had prepared to launch a major conflict against him.
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The next morning.
While brushing his teeth, David heard the doorbell ring. He quickly rinsed and went to the door, opening it to see Simmons standing outside.
“BOSS, we’re all ready. Is there anything else you need help with?”
“First, help me take the luggage downstairs. I’ll get dressed and put on my shoes.”
“OK.”
Simmons entered, picked up the packed suitcases, and walked out.
David quickly changed into his clothes and shoes and when he arrived downstairs, Bucky and Nisen were chatting and smoking in front of the car. Seeing him, they immediately threw their cigarette butts on the ground and stomped them out.
“Let’s go.”
The four got into the car and headed towards Los Angeles International Airport.
At 6:40 AM, the group boarded the flight to Washington D.C.
“I thought I would stay in this city for at least a few years; life is really unpredictable…”
Overlooking the city that held their memories, Nisen couldn’t help but feel emotional.
“Yeah, life is full of surprises…”
Simmons and Bucky showed a similar sentiment on their faces.
Just last year, they were mere Inspectors in the Lake District Sub-Bureau Branch. Who could have imagined that in less than a year’s time, they would have stepped into the power center of the Internal Revenue Service system?
Honestly, it all felt too dreamlike, almost unreal to them.
Yet no matter how much they pinched themselves or slapped their own faces, they never woke up from this ‘dream,’ proving that everything happening was very real.
At exactly twelve noon, with the announcement from the aircraft cabin, everyone knew the plane had entered the jurisdiction of Washington D.C.
Due to previous work requirements, David and his entourage had been to Washington D.C. several times and were therefore not strangers to the city.
After deplaning, the four confidently made their way to a neighborhood on Constitution Avenue.
This was a neighborhood they had identified online prior to their arrival.
Located about 3 kilometers from Internal Revenue Service Headquarters, it was primarily inhabited by personnel from various government departments, offering a favorable environment in all aspects, and thus was chosen as their base in Washington D.C.
“I’ve contacted the landlord; he should be here soon.”
Simmons had barely finished speaking when David’s phone rang. Seeing the call was from Deputy Director Donald, he immediately answered.
“Have you arrived in Washington D.C., David?”
“I have. We’re sorting out the housing.”
“Do you need me to send someone to help?”
“No need, we’ve found a place and will settle in soon.”
“Alright, it’s like this: tomorrow is your official inauguration as the National Chief Tax Inspector. We are considering hosting a banquet for you tonight at the Hyatt Hotel to celebrate your appointment.”
“A banquet?”
Upon hearing this, David was taken aback, then questioned, “It’s rather abrupt… If I may be frank, Deputy Director Donald, I doubt this was initiated by the headquarters, right?”
The headquarters had set the date for his appointment well in advance. If they intended to organize such a banquet, they would have arranged and informed him much earlier.
However, waiting until today when he had arrived in Washington D.C. to notify him was quite unusual.
After a silence of seven or eight seconds, Donald’s voice came through the phone: “I was planning to discuss this with you in person tonight, but since you’ve already guessed, I’ll just be upfront with you. Indeed, this wasn’t our headquarters’ idea; it was proposed by the Angsa people. If you’d rather not attend, I can try to negotiate on your behalf to see if it can be canceled.”
David wasn’t particularly surprised to hear that it was the Angsa people’s idea, but his expression turned somewhat solemn.
He knew that his rapid advancement to headquarters owed a lot to the efforts of the Angsa people.