America: From a Fallen Child Star to the Head of the University of the West

"Fired?" Sean glanced around instinctively. "When did the Los Angeles Times become so efficient? I remember they used to say you were their star reporter."

However, judging from her favorability rating of 70, it probably has nothing to do with him.

"An ace? Maybe. But even ace can be sacrificed in the face of capital." Rachel shrugged, adding self-deprecatingly, "In short, someone pressured the newspaper, saying I'm neglecting my duties, spending all my time focusing on Philadelphia's trivial matters, wasting page space. Anyway, it's always easy to find a reason. It could be Crane, or it could be someone I offended before."

"Sorry, it's mostly because of me."

"Don't flatter yourself, Sean. This is my own choice," Rachel interrupted him. "Besides, being unemployed isn't so bad. At least I'm a freelance journalist now, and nobody can tell me what to investigate."

"Great people are often journalists, like Clark Kent and Peter Parker," Sean laughed.

【65】

Rachel glared at Sean.

"...Uh, okay, Miss Rachel the Free." Sean pressed the elevator button. "So what was that big news you were talking about? Don't tell me you've switched careers to become a paparazzi."

“That’s way more explosive.” Rachel leaned closer. “I have an informant who says he has an internal core list of the Avalon Foundation, as well as a lot of verifiable transaction photos and email records.”

"Oh?" Sean raised an eyebrow. "Sounds interesting. Where is that informant? I can meet him; we can cross-verify the authenticity of the list we have."

"Mexico."

"Mexico?" Sean laughed. "That's quite a distance. Is he on vacation there?"

"He's on the run." Rachel said without a hint of a smile. "According to him, he's been hunted ever since the Avalon Foundation's collapse. Someone wants his life, or rather, they want what he has."

"Being hunted down?" Sean found it somewhat amusing. "I haven't even been hunted down yet, and he's already enjoying this kind of treatment? Just who is he?"

The elevator doors opened, and the two stepped inside. Sean pressed the button for the underground parking level.

"Is it convenient to talk here?" Sean glanced at the camera in the elevator.

"It's not inconvenient at all. Anyway, I'm not a journalist anymore, so I don't need to protect my sources." Rachel leaned against the elevator wall. "His name is Carlos Mendes. He used to be the senior manager in charge of Latin American operations at the Avalon Foundation. He was also a key link in the entire money laundering chain."

"So he was a money launderer," Sean realized. "No wonder he went to Mexico; that's his stronghold, isn't it?"

"I don't know. But his situation is terrible," Rachel continued. "He has evidence, but he's broke. His accounts are frozen, and both the police and the underworld are after him. He contacted me hoping I could help him find a buyer."

"Buyer?"

“Yes. He needs a lot of money, a new identity, and to go somewhere no one can find him.” Rachel looked at Sean. “I thought of you.”

"Me?" Sean pointed to himself. "Do I look like a rich person? I have to rely on crowdfunding for my campaign funds."

"Stop complaining, Sean. I know you have a way," Rachel said. "You have a list, and Carlos has solid evidence. If you use them wisely, those who want to kill you will instantly become pathetic wretches begging for mercy before you."

Hmm... that's certainly true. If those two things were combined, he would truly be invincible.

"That's true," Sean stroked his chin. "But I'm a little curious. Since he has something so powerful, why doesn't he do what I did and use it as a life-saving measure? Or just go and become a witness for the FBI?"

"Because he's not clean either," Rachel sneered. "Like I said, he's part of the money laundering chain. He's got a lot of shit up his ass. If he goes to the FBI, he'll spend the rest of his life in jail. And he doesn't trust the authorities either. You know how deep the waters run in Avalon."

"So he wants to find a private buyer, take the money, and run away?"

"That's right. This is the optimal solution for him."

"Sounds like a good deal," Sean pondered. "However, it's a bit like making a deal with the devil. I need to think about it."

"Don't think about it for too long. Those kinds of people can be taken out at any time, or they can sell their stuff to someone else," Rachel cautioned. "Like your political enemies."

The elevator arrived at the underground parking lot, and the doors opened with a "ding".

"I'll get back to you as soon as possible." Sean stepped out of the elevator, then suddenly stopped and turned to Rachel. "By the way, Rachel, now that you're a free agent, would you be interested in joining my team?"

"Your team?" Rachel paused for a moment.

"Yes. What I need right now is someone who understands the media, has connections, and dares to get to the bottom of things." Sean sincerely extended an invitation. "Although I can't afford a very high salary, it's still better than you working alone. And with me, you'll never lack big news."

Rachel looked at him, her eyes filled with hesitation.

"Let me think about it." She didn't refuse outright. "My mind is a bit of a mess right now."

"No problem, contact me anytime when you've made up your mind."

As the two stepped out of the elevator, they saw Daniel Brown and Vincent Carter standing next to a black SUV, looking in their direction.

Rachel glanced at the police and lawyers over there, then waved to Sean: "I'm off then. Don't forget about Carlos."

After saying that, she turned and walked to the other side of the parking lot.

Sean watched her leave, then composed himself and walked toward Brown and Vincent.

"How's it going, Officer Brown?" Sean asked as he walked over. "The press conference's over. Did you spot anyone unusual?"

In fact, Rachel's guess was correct. This press conference really did have a "fishing" purpose, designed to lure the enemy in.

However, Brown leaned against the car door, still holding a cigarette, looking quite content.

"No. There were no killers or assassins. We even checked the cigarette butts in the trash cans."

"Why are you checking cigarette butts?" Sean suddenly changed the subject. "You should be checking the people who come to the press conference."

"...What you're saying is indeed an oversight on our part, but everyone who came this time had a press pass, so they shouldn't be some kind of crime superstar."

"Then don't make that mistake again next time," Sean said helplessly. "I was risking my life. What if I got blown up?"

Brown rolled his eyes, clearly thinking Sean was trying to teach him a lesson. "You're overthinking it."

At this moment, Vincent, who had been silent all along, spoke up.

"Mr. Pan, Officer Brown, I think we may have overlooked something."

Vincent took a stack of documents out of his briefcase, his expression grave.

"While you were holding the press conference just now, I carefully checked the list of union members that Marcus provided."

"And then? What did you find out?" Brown asked.

"I cross-referenced the names on the list with publicly available court records," Vincent said, scratching his head. "I looked into labor disputes handled by transport workers' unions over the past two years and found some interesting leads."

"for example?"

"For example, several names frequently appear in disputes involving 'abnormal dismissal' and 'workers' compensation.' Moreover, although these individuals were all on the sign-in sheet on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, there were no specific photos or videos of them participating in the event."

Vincent glanced at the noisy surroundings.

"This isn't the place to talk. Let's find a quiet place to chat."