Agent of a certain comic

Chapter 544 The Incarnation of the American Dream
A week later.

Washington.

The plane landed steadily at Washington International Airport, and Mark, wearing sunglasses, stepped out of the federal plane first.

Kate, who was following behind, looked at the huge New York federal plane behind him and asked curiously: "Are you abusing your power?"

Mark said: "Is this true? I came here to report to the Ministry of Justice. It's purely business."

Kate smiled helplessly.

Mark stared at Kate's twinkling eyes like little stars and was intoxicated.

After leaving the airport, Mark took Kate directly into the official car sent by the FBI branch in Washington DC.

After straightening his tie, Mark said directly to the detective driving the car, "Go to the Navy Yard first."

The detective driving the car nodded calmly.

After half an hour.

The car was parked at the entrance of the Navy Yard.

Mark looked at Kate who got out of the car and asked, "Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?"

Kate waved her hand and said, "Let's go quickly."

Mark didn't insist on closing the door any longer and tapped his fingers on the back of the driver's seat.

The black federal official car started off smoothly.

Ministry of Justice building.

Mark came directly to the Attorney General's office with ease and pushed the door open.

next second.

Mark shifted his gaze to the other side.

Minister Albert's assistant was standing behind the minister to help pin something with a paper clip.

Soon.

Mark and the sweet assistant minister who walked by his side smiled and nodded.

The assistant minister also smiled and motioned to close the door.

Minister Albert glanced at Mark, put on the glasses on the table and said, "It's a little early to go out, and I forgot that the buttons are broken."

Mark smiled and sat directly on the chair in front of the desk.

After a while.

Mark frowned and asked, "Ma'am, why did you transfer Cooper to Washington?"

Yes.

On the first day Mark officially returned to work in the Federal Building after his vacation yesterday, Cooper took a picture of a transfer order signed by the Department of Justice on his desktop.

Cooper promoted...

wrong.

It is better to say that it is a transfer than a promotion.

From the dignified deputy director of the FBI in New York to the assistant director of the counter-terrorism department of the FBI headquarters in Washington.

Although Washington is the headquarters.

But there is absolutely no comparison with New York.

The most important thing.

When Cooper left, Mark could have foreseen that countless copywriters would nail him to the office.

This is not what Mark expected.

So here he is.

Minister Albert just said indifferently: "Director Lewis, I need to remind you that the New York FBI is also managed by the Department of Justice, not your private domain."

Mark shrugged.

After seeing this, Albert threw a document on the desktop in front of Mark and said, "Last month, the assistant director of counter-terrorism in Washington was killed by two call girls when he was in Egypt."

Mark glanced at the photo in the file and looked up, "Ma'am, are you sure you're not joking?"

An assistant counterterrorism director was assassinated by a call girl?

This is reality.

Not an American drama.

Not to mention whether the dignified assistant director of counter-terrorism will be called a call girl.

Let's just say that the picture of the hotel in this photo.

Maggie.

Anyone with a little money would not go to such a hotel on the verge of landslides, let alone do shameful things...

"Do you think I'm joking?"

"...not like."

Albert withdrew his gaze and said indifferently: "This assistant director of anti-terrorism is going to receive intelligence in the past."

"...What information?"

"This is an election year, Mark."

"so?"

"Al-Qaeda plans to launch a large-scale terrorist attack on the mainland this summer and autumn, and declares that if the president is re-elected, he will destroy us at all costs."

"...It's a good thing to be able to speak harshly, but it's obviously a brain problem if you speak too hard."

"This year is a general election year, and the security issue in Washington is the top priority. Harold Cooper has very rich experience in counter-terrorism. He was transferred here also taking into account his own opinions."

"...Wait!" Mark frowned, "What did you just say? He accepted it himself?"

Minister Albert smiled.

Leaning back on the boss chair, he looked at Mark thoughtfully and said, "You don't know? In fact, this is the third time Harold Cooper has asked for a transfer."

After half an hour.

Mark walked out of the judicial building with some melancholy.

Looking at the blue sky, I have a feeling that my whole heart is for the bright moon, but the bright moon shines on the ditch.

Mark was suddenly very angry.

Which sub-bureau's deputy chief has the authority of the New York branch's deputy chief?

I couldn't find any of the branches in the fifty continental states.

Mark suddenly thought of a sentence.

I chose to let you go and let you fly to your heart's content, but you...fuck flew away and didn't plan to look back.

This is so uncomfortable.

Thinking of Cooper's appearance yesterday, Mark wanted to fly back immediately and tear Cooper's black face.

really.

Black people are totally untrustworthy.

Just when Mark was about to get drunk, a black car parked steadily in front of him.

The rear window rolls down.

An old family member whom I haven't seen for a long time looked at Mark and said with a smile, "Louis, are you interested in having lunch together?"

Mark froze for a moment, then opened the car door and said, "Why not, you came here in person."

Soon.

At the end of the street three blocks from the Capitol.

Mark looked up at the building without a signboard and glanced at Francis, who looked like a tiger with a smiling face beside him, and said, "How long has it been since you visited this place?"

"Four years?"

"...Almost, I went to Dongguo to take office in [-], and you invited me here to eat before I left."

Mark and Francis walked into the alley and sat down to shake the small wind chime on the window.

Francis likes to eat the roast ribs that Southern Negroes usually eat.

Even in the entire Washington political circle, no more than ten people would know about this matter.

Mark happens to be one of those who know.

Francis is a true representative of the American dream.

Starting from scratch since he was a child, the cheap grilled ribs that southern blacks often eat is a childhood memory for him, and it is also a sweet memory in a cruel life...

Soon.

Serve the ribs.

Mark looked down at the greasy but meaty grilled ribs on the table and fell silent.

Again.

Francis' childhood life was cruel, but that doesn't mean that Mark's childhood was also cruel.

In fact.

Mark still misses his childhood life.

worry free.

No worries.

If only Mark's life could be made public.

Then the American dream would have nothing to do with Francis.

Mark can guarantee that 90.00% of the local males...

wrong.

90.00% of men in the world will see themselves as the embodiment of the American dream walking on the ground...

(End of this chapter)