Darkstone Code-Chapter 927 - 925: Escaped

Generally, after a board meeting starts, there are no special matters that can disrupt it.

The secretary’s expression was somewhat awkward and a bit aggrieved, she actually didn’t want to come.

After the sudden change in the CEO, she’s feeling a bit anxious, as it means the past two years were a waste...

Of course, not entirely a waste, at least she had taken a high salary for two years and enjoyed a stable life, which was actually fair compensation for her efforts.

She doesn’t know what kind of person Lynch is or whether he will keep her—actually, without much thought she knows, Lynch will definitely transfer her to another department or even kick her out.

No one would keep the former CEO’s secretary, and it looks like Lynch plans to personally control the company rather than hiring a professional manager.

With a heart full of reluctance, she stood by the door, pitifully like a wronged kitten.

"Gentlemen, let’s pause for a moment, it looks like I have a very important phone call," Lynch said as he stood up, others casually responding.

He walked through the meeting room door and entered the CEO’s office.

The previous CEO was someone who loved to indulge; everything here was arranged for him to enjoy his work and life.

The various expensive decorations made Lynch feel a bit out of place; it actually looked more like a showy CEO’s office than one of a company valued at over a billion.

He sat in the exaggeratedly large CEO chair, feeling very comfortable, like... sitting on a young girl’s behind.

This kind of description is damn absurd, but that’s exactly how Lynch feels in this moment.

The shiny deep red lacquered leather chair was filled with very exquisite materials, very comfortable, and when you sat down, it felt like being enveloped, giving a sense of security.

He picked up the gilded receiver, through which came Mr. Truman’s slightly awkward voice, "I’m sorry, Lynch, I have some bad news. Sanchez escaped by jumping from the train; you need to beef up your personal protection."

Lynch pondered over this sentence for two seconds, then incredulously asked, "Are you saying Sanchez jumped off the train and fled under the Security Committee’s surveillance?"

"Are you sure you didn’t just find some movie plot to mess with me?"

Mr. Truman was rather helpless, "Listen, I’m not joking. When I heard about this, I found it as unbelievable as you, but these things have already happened."

"I’m urging the Security Committee to capture Sanchez as soon as possible, and the FBI will issue a federation warrant."

Mr. Truman’s words once again took Lynch by surprise.

The issuance of a federation warrant by the FBI is strictly reviewed, and in the current situation where communication is very inconvenient, issuing an all-territory warrant will cause many troubles beyond people’s imagination.

For example, someone might think another person resembles the wanted criminal, then the local police station or investigation bureau sends officers, arresting the reported person.

They may be unable to discern whether this person is the right one—usually the main reference factors are height, weight, body type, shoe size, and the like.

But you can’t guarantee someone might appear similar, with height, weight, and shoes about the same, so they’ll have to send this perpetrator to the place where the warrant was issued or have local officials responsible for the case come here to verify.

This won’t be an exception. There will always be those crazed for money, reporting people everywhere trying to earn some bounty.

According to informal statistics from the FBI, each nationwide warrant issuance leads to at least ten or more false reports, and they have to run around for 40% of those false reports, incurring various expenses.

Moreover, it also involves coordination issues, which are very complicated; generally, the Federation won’t easily do such a thing.

Mr. Truman’s statement is actually a form of commitment that the Security Committee will take full responsibility for this matter.

After hanging up, Lynch pressed a button on the phone, and soon the secretary walked into the CEO’s office.

It was noticeable that she had pulled her skirt slightly higher, revealing most of her thighs.

The people of the Federation don’t have distorted views on health; they don’t think that being skin and bones is healthy, girls with moderate weight are the most popular.

Their snow-white legs were quite dazzling in the late spring and early summer; Lynch’s gaze moved from the secretary’s legs to her brooch.

A cuckoo bird brooch.

Then moved to her face.

"Have my bodyguard come over."

The secretary hurriedly nodded and left, and soon, Austin walked in with coffee.

Ever since Lynch exposed her identity, she now seemed to have dropped her previous aloof facade, becoming more natural.

A woman warrior who has smuggled along the border for years couldn’t possibly be a stern, rigid person; she came in and, without Lynch’s command, plopped down on the sofa.

"The coffee here is nice, they actually have their own grinder, big corporates sure have money!"

Her words were somewhat incomplete, neither beginning nor end, but Lynch understood.

This is the advantage of smart people; they think a lot and understand deeply, though sometimes this can be a disadvantage too.

She meant that the environment here is much better than government units, that’s for sure. A bunch of guys calling themselves taxpayers keep an eye on every department, not letting them squander every penny of taxpayers’ money. How can this compare to a corporation?

Lynch paused for a few seconds, then crossed his fingers over the table in front of him. "Sanchez has escaped. Arrange for someone to protect Mr. President, and at the same time, strengthen the defenses on my side."

Austin was also somewhat taken aback by the news, standing up straight after a while, he asked, "How did he escape?"

At this moment, the train had completely stopped. The senior special agent in his thirties paced back and forth a few steps, unable to resist kicking the wall of the train compartment.

With his forceful kick, the wall cracked open.

In front of him was a bed, on which a newspaper had been bundled into the shape of a person. It was this thing that fooled their special agents.

Because of Sanchez’s special identity and his future opportunity to inherit his father’s power, so even though the Federation Government knew he had caused the tragedy, they ultimately merely "politely" escorted him out of the border.

In this compartment, he was the only person, but every two hours, there would be special agents checking on him.

At eight in the morning, the special agent came to check and found Sanchez still asleep, so he didn’t disturb him.

In this kind of escort mission, if the person being escorted is willing to cooperate, it evidently reduces the workload significantly.

Then approaching ten o’clock, the special agent came here again. "Sanchez" was still sleeping in bed. He realized something was wrong and immediately called the guards and opened the door to enter.

Pulled back the thin blanket, but there was no one inside, only a human figure formed from bundled-up newspapers.

As for Sanchez, he was long gone!

The train was forced to stop at this time, and after two rounds of checks, it was ultimately confirmed that Sanchez was no longer on the train.

At the next supply station, they reported the qualified news to the Security Committee and simultaneously inquired with other stops and supply stations along the line whether anyone had been seen from last night to this morning.

One of the stopping stations said they saw a guy. That person said he had been lost here for several days, and the station arranged for someone to send him to the hospital...

Of course, Sanchez was nowhere to be found in the hospital, which also indicated that Sanchez had truly run away.

The special agent’s angry kick clearly reflected his current mood; such a simple task actually failed.

In addition to writing a lengthy report down to the details of picking his nose and where he flicked something, he also had to undergo a safety investigation.

This is also a convention of the Security Committee—whenever special agents fail a field task, the first procedure is to immediately conduct safety investigation and evaluation on these agents to prevent the possibility that their task failure was scripted and designed.

Besides these, they would also lose points, have their year-end bonuses reduced, vacations decreased, and promotion opportunities drift further away.

Damn it!

Now he wished to strangle Sanchez if he could see him.

His partner stood at the door, watching him, waited until he finished venting before asking, "Where do you think he will go?"

The young special agent, in his thirties, tidied up his attire, wiped his shoes with the thin blanket, and organized his tie in the train mirror, saying while tidying, "Bupen!"

"Let others continue to escort the rest of those to the border, we will head straight back to Bupen to catch this bastard."

The special agent at the door hesitated a bit, "What about the safety investigation?"

"Catch him first, and the rest will be easy!"

The focus of everyone’s attention was that Sanchez had already boarded the train heading back to Bupen.

He sold his watch to an antique dealer in a small city, that watch he bought for thirty-two thousand at the time and now its price has reportedly increased, to thirty-six thousand.

But the antique dealer only offered him two thousand, not a penny more.

After throwing a tantrum and visiting several antique stores, Sanchez finally traded his watch for eighteen hundred.

His mind now was filled with malice; he hated his uncle, he hated his brother, he hated the owner of the antique shop!

Of course, and the agencies like the Federation’s Security Committee.

During the train journey, people boarded and disembarked, he even took a nap halfway, and when he awoke, the drunk man opposite him had been replaced by someone else.

A guy who looked like a successful person, dressed in formal attire, wearing a tie, reading a newspaper.

Sanchez’s wary gaze quickly moved away from him, but was immediately pulled back by something.

He slightly furrowed his brows, spotting a news article in the opened newspaper of that guy—

"Every Moment’s Biggest Deal Achieved"

===

① Nonsense: A board game special event, meaning to provoke the dragon egg through the ghost, implying illogical reasoning.