Chapter 23 Taran Industrial and Technical Consultants
·
Nan Shan Dou Xi
John has to handle some formalities for Ivan, such as contract matters.
It has to be said that for outlaws, basically this contract can only be based on credibility.
In his hand he held the letter that Ivan had read and torn into pieces.
The letter that should have become useless paper now lies intact in his hands.
Staring at the threat written by his Uncle Andre, he felt that the issue of Ivan's credibility should not be a problem.
Their only problem so far is that a police car has pulled them over.
Ivan and John were sitting in the police station, and he had a look of disbelief on his face.
"You never told me you didn't have a driver's license."
"Ahem," John turned his head away in embarrassment and curled his lips, "If you hadn't given the middle finger to the police car, these things wouldn't have happened."
"Don't talk nonsense. What those bastards like most is to get into trouble with luxury cars." Ivan spoke in Russian.
Regarding the matter of not having a driver's license, John did not have any accidents the last time he drove without a license.
He attributed it to Ivan being too arrogant in the passenger seat.
This ability to attract hatred reminded him of an old friend with platinum hair.
Now there are two people, one is undocumented and the other is a wanted criminal who is nominally dead.
If you enter the police station and do a little verification, you can get hefty fines and prison terms starting at more than 20 years.
John had already prepared for this.
...
Matt returned to the law firm with his first payment that could be considered a regular hire.
His good friend Fudge was very happy, and it seemed that the money had given him a bright future.
I am so excited that I want to take Matt to spend some time.
Little did he know that he could have received at least 100 million in employment fees.
"I just said that person must be a rich man," Fudge and Matt muttered in the bar. "The second generation of rich people are the most likely to get into lawsuits. Although there is some trouble, their fathers are willing to spend a lot of money. Price."
He and Matt both graduated from Columbia Law School, and both of them once interned at major law firms.
But they didn't like the environment there, and they had righteousness in their hearts.
This is often something that big law firms don't pay attention to. In one lawsuit, Matt clearly knew that the defendant was the victim.
But the lawyers in the law firm don't care about justice. What they want is who offers a higher price.
So they went out on their own and started the law firm Nelson Murdoch.
This is the combined last name of the two people.
It also represents the starting point of the two.
Bring justice to more vulnerable people.
It would be even better if you could get a little commission while doing justice.
Fudge was talking, and as Matt listened, his phone vibrated.
He took out his cell phone and picked it up.
"What?" The message on the other end of the phone made Matt frown, as if something big had happened.
"Okay, I see, I'll go right away."
The phone hung up and Matt sighed deeply.
"What happened?" Fudge's heart was raised.
Could it be that there's something wrong with the law firm's qualifications?
Or is it about taxes?
Tough lawsuit?
Various possibilities ran through his mind.
"It's the rich second generation from last time." Matt looked heavy.
Fudge's heart skipped a beat. It couldn't be such a coincidence. Something happened right after he said that?
Matt pinched his eyebrows, "He was caught driving without a license."
Fudge: "..." I almost thought he killed someone.
Such a small thing.
However, in the United States, where high school students all have driver’s licenses, there are still people driving without a license?
This has to make Fudge sigh with emotion at the difference between the rich second generation.
Matt's heart skipped a beat when he heard John's name.
I thought something big was going to happen, like which gang I had to deal with again.
The result was driving without a license.
Matt is very efficient.
Fudge drove him to the NYPD.
Before he went in, he heard John and Ivan huddled in the corner, sarcastically talking to each other in Russian.
He came over and identified himself as John's lawyer, and the police station let him into the holding cell.
Even without looking into Matt's heart, John knew how speechless the other person was at this moment.
Paying the fine, John and Ivan prepared to leave.
At this moment, someone stopped them.
"Sorry, you can't leave."
The visitor showed his FBI ID and his eyes fell on John and Ivan.
"Meet again, Mr. Wick, and..."
The detective stared at Ivan, and he was somewhat familiar with Ivan's appearance.
However, because Ivan had changed his hairstyle and his face had a slight change, he was not recognized.
"I don't think you have the right to detain them," Matt said calmly, holding the guide stick with both hands, "They have already paid the fine."
"Yes, that's true about driving without a license," the detective named Qiao said calmly, "but they are also involved in several major cases and need assistance in the investigation."
Matt listened to the other person's heartbeat and didn't lie.
He glanced at John, maybe this was the trouble he was talking about.
"Okay, but you need to talk to my lawyer," John patted Fudge, who came with Matt, on the shoulder, "This is Fudge, my lawyer."
He whispered in Fudge's ear: "I have an important thing to do today. Please solve this problem for me. The commission will remain as usual."
Fudge's eyes lit up, he straightened his tie and said sternly: "It is my duty to do so."
John looked up at Agent Qiao, who looked ugly, and chuckled: "Then I'll leave first."
Agent Qiao wanted to say something else, but Fudge stopped him.
Even if the FBI has great power, it will be very difficult to deal with those who talk without enough evidence.
Matt turned his head silently. The person next to John seemed to be the real trouble.
After walking out of the police station, John took out his newly purchased mobile phone and made a call.
After more than ten seconds, the call was connected.
"If you want to be a qualified driver, you should know not to keep your boss waiting."
John's words were a little unhappy. If the driver hadn't come to work today, he wouldn't have had to drive himself.
This confused Ferdinand on the other end of the phone. He was surprised: "I'm not fired?"
The sports car was punctured by the glass, and Ferdinand thought he had been fired.
John directly apparated away yesterday without telling Ferdinand, leaving him uneasy until late at night before leaving.
"Get in your pickup truck and pick me up at the coffee shop in front of the police station."
Giving instructions to Ferdinand, John glanced at the impounded Ferrari.
“Do you think dad’s car is unlucky?”
He fell into deep doubt and opened three of them in total, but none of them ended well.
If he hadn't confirmed that there was no magic on it, he would have even suspected that his father had cast a curse on the car.
As for vehicle killers and the like...
It’s fake, this car must be unlucky!
Ferdinand drove his old pickup truck and apologized first when he got out of the car.
"I'm sorry, boss, that car was damaged, I asked a tow truck to tow it away." Ferdinand was terrified, he was afraid that John would cost him his life.
"Oh," John and Ivan said calmly as they got into the pickup truck, "Head to Taran Industries."
"Huh?" Ferdinand was ready to be scolded, but he didn't react when he saw John's calm expression.
"Hurry up and drive."
Ivan was impatient.
This old car isn't very roomy in the back.
Ferdinand first visually inspected Ivan's appearance, and then the tattoos all over his body.
Resolutely admit it.
Press the accelerator to drive a pickup truck through the bustling Manhattan.
Tallan Industries is a company famous for its production of pistols and motorized rifles.
Most of their equipment is for civilian use, and the weapons they produce are compact, lightweight, and powerful, and are deeply loved by mercenaries and killers.
However, Taran Industries has no competition with Stark Industries.
Because they are mainly in the field of firearms, and Stark is heavy in firepower and lethality.
The pickup truck was parked outside Tallan Industries.
John got out of the car and walked inside.
Ivan looked at the company. The overall building was a rectangle with black glass, which added to the mystery.
Ferdinand looked nervous after getting out of the car. When he saw the two of them entering, he hurriedly followed them.
Walking through the door, the company is full of people coming and going, filled with scenes of elites gaining a foothold.
The patrolling security guard saw the three people and used the walkie-talkie to report the presence of suspicious persons.
People from the security department stepped forward, with strong muscles, wide shoulders and narrow waists, wearing black clothes and berets.
"Sir, please show your ID."
Someone stopped the three of them, and Ivan looked at John with interest, wanting to see how he would solve the problem.
Ferdinand noticed that the people around him were not easy to mess with.
"I thought you would recognize me," John calmly took out a purple card from his small bag, "then you should recognize this."
Seeing the card, the head of the security department changed his expression and said respectfully: "Welcome."
"Mr. Wick."
"Take me to father's office," John said calmly, turning Zika in his hand, "and then call the management for a meeting."
"Okay, Mr. Wick." The head of the security department said hesitantly, "But Mr. Olof..."
"Tell him to come too."
John said indifferently: "I hope he's not playing golf somewhere."
The head of security further confirmed John's identity.
With the arrival of John, all Taran Industries became nervous.
After all, they have always been managed by Mr. Orlov, but today there is another major shareholder.
A bloody battle for power?
Storm is coming.
For those at Taran Industries, the nerves were on edge.
But Ferdinand was happy.
He always knew that John was rich. After all, he just threw away the car without feeling any distress at all. He lived in the most valuable place in Manhattan.
But he never expected that this huge Tallan Industry actually belonged to the John family.
As a street gangster, the thing that you have the most access to is not Stark's tall missiles, nor the heavy firepower of Hammer Industries, but the pistols of Taran Industries.
It can be said that it is necessary to kill people and steal goods, destroy corpses and eliminate traces, and must have good products.
With such a big boss, Ferdinand vowed to perform well.
Ivan was sitting on a swivel chair with a toothpick in his mouth and his slovenly appearance was unique in the conference room.
John stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the Lincoln stretch luxury car parked below.
A man with a high hairline walked out of it and walked towards the company building.
With a smile on his lips, John glanced at the empty conference room.
It seems those people are waiting.
No matter what, they all work for dad anyway.
Waiting patiently for the personnel to come in, Ivan said with a wicked smile: "It seems that your father has a very difficult partner."
"As long as it's money, no one will refuse." John rubbed his fingers on the silver ring.
"Let me see who it is, my dear Wick."
The conference room door opened, and the man with a high hairline walked in with a loud laugh.
Behind him is the group of management who are waiting and watching.
It seemed like they were already in position.
...
It has to be said that for outlaws, basically this contract can only be based on credibility.
In his hand he held the letter that Ivan had read and torn into pieces.
The letter that should have become useless paper now lies intact in his hands.
Staring at the threat written by his Uncle Andre, he felt that the issue of Ivan's credibility should not be a problem.
Their only problem so far is that a police car has pulled them over.
Ivan and John were sitting in the police station, and he had a look of disbelief on his face.
"You never told me you didn't have a driver's license."
"Ahem," John turned his head away in embarrassment and curled his lips, "If you hadn't given the middle finger to the police car, these things wouldn't have happened."
"Don't talk nonsense. What those bastards like most is to get into trouble with luxury cars." Ivan spoke in Russian.
Regarding the matter of not having a driver's license, John did not have any accidents the last time he drove without a license.
He attributed it to Ivan being too arrogant in the passenger seat.
This ability to attract hatred reminded him of an old friend with platinum hair.
Now there are two people, one is undocumented and the other is a wanted criminal who is nominally dead.
If you enter the police station and do a little verification, you can get hefty fines and prison terms starting at more than 20 years.
John had already prepared for this.
...
Matt returned to the law firm with his first payment that could be considered a regular hire.
His good friend Fudge was very happy, and it seemed that the money had given him a bright future.
I am so excited that I want to take Matt to spend some time.
Little did he know that he could have received at least 100 million in employment fees.
"I just said that person must be a rich man," Fudge and Matt muttered in the bar. "The second generation of rich people are the most likely to get into lawsuits. Although there is some trouble, their fathers are willing to spend a lot of money. Price."
He and Matt both graduated from Columbia Law School, and both of them once interned at major law firms.
But they didn't like the environment there, and they had righteousness in their hearts.
This is often something that big law firms don't pay attention to. In one lawsuit, Matt clearly knew that the defendant was the victim.
But the lawyers in the law firm don't care about justice. What they want is who offers a higher price.
So they went out on their own and started the law firm Nelson Murdoch.
This is the combined last name of the two people.
It also represents the starting point of the two.
Bring justice to more vulnerable people.
It would be even better if you could get a little commission while doing justice.
Fudge was talking, and as Matt listened, his phone vibrated.
He took out his cell phone and picked it up.
"What?" The message on the other end of the phone made Matt frown, as if something big had happened.
"Okay, I see, I'll go right away."
The phone hung up and Matt sighed deeply.
"What happened?" Fudge's heart was raised.
Could it be that there's something wrong with the law firm's qualifications?
Or is it about taxes?
Tough lawsuit?
Various possibilities ran through his mind.
"It's the rich second generation from last time." Matt looked heavy.
Fudge's heart skipped a beat. It couldn't be such a coincidence. Something happened right after he said that?
Matt pinched his eyebrows, "He was caught driving without a license."
Fudge: "..." I almost thought he killed someone.
Such a small thing.
However, in the United States, where high school students all have driver’s licenses, there are still people driving without a license?
This has to make Fudge sigh with emotion at the difference between the rich second generation.
Matt's heart skipped a beat when he heard John's name.
I thought something big was going to happen, like which gang I had to deal with again.
The result was driving without a license.
Matt is very efficient.
Fudge drove him to the NYPD.
Before he went in, he heard John and Ivan huddled in the corner, sarcastically talking to each other in Russian.
He came over and identified himself as John's lawyer, and the police station let him into the holding cell.
Even without looking into Matt's heart, John knew how speechless the other person was at this moment.
Paying the fine, John and Ivan prepared to leave.
At this moment, someone stopped them.
"Sorry, you can't leave."
The visitor showed his FBI ID and his eyes fell on John and Ivan.
"Meet again, Mr. Wick, and..."
The detective stared at Ivan, and he was somewhat familiar with Ivan's appearance.
However, because Ivan had changed his hairstyle and his face had a slight change, he was not recognized.
"I don't think you have the right to detain them," Matt said calmly, holding the guide stick with both hands, "They have already paid the fine."
"Yes, that's true about driving without a license," the detective named Qiao said calmly, "but they are also involved in several major cases and need assistance in the investigation."
Matt listened to the other person's heartbeat and didn't lie.
He glanced at John, maybe this was the trouble he was talking about.
"Okay, but you need to talk to my lawyer," John patted Fudge, who came with Matt, on the shoulder, "This is Fudge, my lawyer."
He whispered in Fudge's ear: "I have an important thing to do today. Please solve this problem for me. The commission will remain as usual."
Fudge's eyes lit up, he straightened his tie and said sternly: "It is my duty to do so."
John looked up at Agent Qiao, who looked ugly, and chuckled: "Then I'll leave first."
Agent Qiao wanted to say something else, but Fudge stopped him.
Even if the FBI has great power, it will be very difficult to deal with those who talk without enough evidence.
Matt turned his head silently. The person next to John seemed to be the real trouble.
After walking out of the police station, John took out his newly purchased mobile phone and made a call.
After more than ten seconds, the call was connected.
"If you want to be a qualified driver, you should know not to keep your boss waiting."
John's words were a little unhappy. If the driver hadn't come to work today, he wouldn't have had to drive himself.
This confused Ferdinand on the other end of the phone. He was surprised: "I'm not fired?"
The sports car was punctured by the glass, and Ferdinand thought he had been fired.
John directly apparated away yesterday without telling Ferdinand, leaving him uneasy until late at night before leaving.
"Get in your pickup truck and pick me up at the coffee shop in front of the police station."
Giving instructions to Ferdinand, John glanced at the impounded Ferrari.
“Do you think dad’s car is unlucky?”
He fell into deep doubt and opened three of them in total, but none of them ended well.
If he hadn't confirmed that there was no magic on it, he would have even suspected that his father had cast a curse on the car.
As for vehicle killers and the like...
It’s fake, this car must be unlucky!
Ferdinand drove his old pickup truck and apologized first when he got out of the car.
"I'm sorry, boss, that car was damaged, I asked a tow truck to tow it away." Ferdinand was terrified, he was afraid that John would cost him his life.
"Oh," John and Ivan said calmly as they got into the pickup truck, "Head to Taran Industries."
"Huh?" Ferdinand was ready to be scolded, but he didn't react when he saw John's calm expression.
"Hurry up and drive."
Ivan was impatient.
This old car isn't very roomy in the back.
Ferdinand first visually inspected Ivan's appearance, and then the tattoos all over his body.
Resolutely admit it.
Press the accelerator to drive a pickup truck through the bustling Manhattan.
Tallan Industries is a company famous for its production of pistols and motorized rifles.
Most of their equipment is for civilian use, and the weapons they produce are compact, lightweight, and powerful, and are deeply loved by mercenaries and killers.
However, Taran Industries has no competition with Stark Industries.
Because they are mainly in the field of firearms, and Stark is heavy in firepower and lethality.
The pickup truck was parked outside Tallan Industries.
John got out of the car and walked inside.
Ivan looked at the company. The overall building was a rectangle with black glass, which added to the mystery.
Ferdinand looked nervous after getting out of the car. When he saw the two of them entering, he hurriedly followed them.
Walking through the door, the company is full of people coming and going, filled with scenes of elites gaining a foothold.
The patrolling security guard saw the three people and used the walkie-talkie to report the presence of suspicious persons.
People from the security department stepped forward, with strong muscles, wide shoulders and narrow waists, wearing black clothes and berets.
"Sir, please show your ID."
Someone stopped the three of them, and Ivan looked at John with interest, wanting to see how he would solve the problem.
Ferdinand noticed that the people around him were not easy to mess with.
"I thought you would recognize me," John calmly took out a purple card from his small bag, "then you should recognize this."
Seeing the card, the head of the security department changed his expression and said respectfully: "Welcome."
"Mr. Wick."
"Take me to father's office," John said calmly, turning Zika in his hand, "and then call the management for a meeting."
"Okay, Mr. Wick." The head of the security department said hesitantly, "But Mr. Olof..."
"Tell him to come too."
John said indifferently: "I hope he's not playing golf somewhere."
The head of security further confirmed John's identity.
With the arrival of John, all Taran Industries became nervous.
After all, they have always been managed by Mr. Orlov, but today there is another major shareholder.
A bloody battle for power?
Storm is coming.
For those at Taran Industries, the nerves were on edge.
But Ferdinand was happy.
He always knew that John was rich. After all, he just threw away the car without feeling any distress at all. He lived in the most valuable place in Manhattan.
But he never expected that this huge Tallan Industry actually belonged to the John family.
As a street gangster, the thing that you have the most access to is not Stark's tall missiles, nor the heavy firepower of Hammer Industries, but the pistols of Taran Industries.
It can be said that it is necessary to kill people and steal goods, destroy corpses and eliminate traces, and must have good products.
With such a big boss, Ferdinand vowed to perform well.
Ivan was sitting on a swivel chair with a toothpick in his mouth and his slovenly appearance was unique in the conference room.
John stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the Lincoln stretch luxury car parked below.
A man with a high hairline walked out of it and walked towards the company building.
With a smile on his lips, John glanced at the empty conference room.
It seems those people are waiting.
No matter what, they all work for dad anyway.
Waiting patiently for the personnel to come in, Ivan said with a wicked smile: "It seems that your father has a very difficult partner."
"As long as it's money, no one will refuse." John rubbed his fingers on the silver ring.
"Let me see who it is, my dear Wick."
The conference room door opened, and the man with a high hairline walked in with a loud laugh.
Behind him is the group of management who are waiting and watching.
It seemed like they were already in position.
...
