American Gossip King

Chapter 147 I can make you the bureau chief

Christmas is coming.

Snowflakes began to fall from the sky.

Snow covered the roads, shrouding Los Angeles in a silvery white.

Ian drove along until they reached an empty street. He said to Brideson, "You drive back first, I'm going to get out and walk around."

"Okay, boss." Brideson drove away.

Ian walked alone in the swirling snow, his hands in his pockets.

Seeing a coffee shop with its lights still on in the distance, Ian went in and said, "A hot latte."

He sat down in a window seat and began to think quietly.

The coffee was served quickly, and the owner smiled and said, "This is for you, Mr. Carl, a gift for a hero."

Ian smiled, took out a banknote and handed it to the shopkeeper: "You don't need to give me a gift, I have more money than you."

"Thank you very much then." The shopkeeper happily accepted the hundred-dollar bill.

Just as I was having my coffee, the coffee shop door was pushed open.

A policewoman walked in.

Catherine.

The long-legged, blonde policewoman walked straight toward Ian after seeing him.

She sat down next to Ian and said, "You look pretty good, American hero?"

"Long time no see," Ian said with a smile.

Catherine replied coldly, "Because I've been busy. Do you know what I've been busy with?"

Ian looked at her without saying a word.

Catherine said, "I'm investigating you."

"Wow," Ian smiled. "Can you tell me why?"

"Mohammed Ata!" Catherine said seriously, "You knew he would do this beforehand, and then you let Leso board his plane while you boarded another one. You watched the disaster happen, and then you used it to make yourself a hero!"

Her expression was serious, her tone angry, and her voice was filled with the flames of fury.

Ian calmly sipped his coffee.

His gaze was cold, yet his eyes held a hint of pity as he looked at Catherine: "Why did you only start questioning this now? Oh, I see, it's because of the recent interview with Ata by Filipso, isn't it?"

Catherine took a deep breath: "You knew everything all along!"

Ian nodded slightly: "Yes."

Catherine was stunned: "You admit it?"

Ian sneered dismissively: "Nonsense, remember the first time I told you why I was looking for Ata? I said then that the guy might be a terrorist. I've never lied to you."

Catherine exclaimed, "But you didn't report it!"

"It's your fault for not reporting it!" Ian shouted, pointing at Catherine. "I told a policeman about my suspicions, what more do you want me to do?"

Catherine was stunned by the questioning.

It seems... that's how it is?

It took her a while to realize: "But you couldn't be sure back then."

Ian sneered: "When did I say I was certain? Does fighting terrorism require certainty? If you have doubts, you should be prepared. As a newspaper owner and a journalist, I had doubts, I reported them, I took action, so tell me, what did I do wrong? On the contrary, what have you done?"

Catherine was speechless at his question. She touched her forehead and said, "I really didn't think anything serious would happen."

"That was your and your father's mistake, it has nothing to do with me!" Ian sneered.

"Don't drag my father into this; it has nothing to do with him!"

Ian scoffed, "He helped you find Ata's whereabouts, but he didn't do anything!"

As he spoke, Ian took out a voice recorder and began playing the recording for Catherine.

That was the recording they had made last time. Catherine's expression changed drastically: "You bastard, you recorded our conversation?"

Ian coldly replied, "I'm a journalist, skilled at recording all information."

He looked at Catherine with disdain: "Your father suspects me of colluding with terrorists? Ha, what? He wants to use taking down a hero as a badge of honor? Luckily, I've never placed my hopes on humanity! Filippo went to Ata because he suspected him, that's a fact. What journalist arrests someone just because of suspicion? No matter how much you try to drag this into it, it won't affect me, but this recording can send your father to hell! He missed a chance to stop a disaster! He neglected his duty!"

Catherine grabbed the recorder, threw it to the ground, and stomped on it frantically.

Ian didn't stop her, but looked at her with pity: "I've been waiting for you to contact me because I know you fairly well, Miss Catherine. You think you're a righteous police officer, but you're nothing, just an incompetent piece of trash. It's already December, and you're only now contacting me! I've waited three months! And this is your reaction? Are you trying to frame me?"

Catherine slumped helplessly in her seat.

Ian sneered, "I didn't know Flight 77 would crash. Nobody would risk their life like that, so don't try to pin this on me. But as a token of your disrespect, I'll consider releasing this information, and your father will be branded with shame... You don't really think it's just this one recording, do you?"

"No!" Catherine cried out.

Ian calmly lit a cigar and said, "I like it when people cause me trouble; it means I get more good news. But unfortunately, you're not good enough to be a bombshell. You can't give me what I want, so I'll have to use your father as a sacrifice."

Catherine took a deep breath: "You want to sleep with me?"

Ian laughed: "You're a pretty girl, but do you know how many pretty girls want to sleep with me? Putting that aside, even if you paid me, how much are you worth? A thousand dollars? The news about your father brings me far more than that! So, don't try to talk to me with your body, it's worthless."

Catherine gritted her teeth: "You damned, money-grubbing bastard!"

Ian shook his head slightly: "I don't have much money, just a mountain of debt. But luckily, my influence is greater than my money... I mean, I'm very good at making worthless people valuable."

As he spoke, he looked at Catherine and smiled, "Go back and talk to your father. If he's willing to be friends with me, I can make him the director of the FBI."

Catherine sneered: "And then he'll become your dog?"

Ian replied, "Everyone wants to be a dog, the only fear is not getting a good price."

With that, he got up and left.

I feel like I've forgotten something?

Oh, Gaskell asked me to F her?

Damn it, what's the rush? It'll happen sooner or later. I'm not short of girls these days.

------

One day later.

The latest novel is first published here!

Ian met Jon Brown, Catherine's father.

It's the same coffee shop, in the same spot.

The FBI mid-level manager sat in his daughter's seat from yesterday, smiling at Ian: "Mr. Carl, my daughter has been a bit disobedient, and I apologize on her behalf."

Ian was very easygoing: "It's okay, I won't hold it against you."

As he spoke, he gazed at Jon and said, "Mr. Brown, I believe your daughter has conveyed my message to you, and I want to reiterate that I am serious."

Jon Brown laughed. "The question is, how did you do it?"

Ian shrugged: "The election, you know about it?"

Jon Brown nodded. "There are still three years left."

Ian replied casually, sipping his coffee, "If it were next year's election, I wouldn't say this, since I wouldn't be confident then. But with three years to go, I'm more confident."

He looked at Jon Brown and laughed, "I own 25% of CBS; I'm the owner of Carl Media; I'm an American hero, and that halo will never fade. Even fifty or a hundred years from now, as long as people don't forget 9/17, they won't forget me!"

Jon nodded slightly: "You're right... You're the fastest growing person I've ever seen in a short period of time. In just one year, you've become a business tycoon with assets exceeding one billion and controlling assets worth tens of billions."

Ian laughed: "So you see, maybe I can't decide who the FBI director is right now, but I... well, with some other friends, I can decide who the president is, and the president can decide who the director is."

"That means we'll have to wait three more years."

"Are you already that impatient?" Ian laughed. "Or do you not trust me?"

Jon Brown thought seriously for a moment and said, "I don't mean to distrust you. You're a perceptive journalist, a Pulitzer Prize winner next year... no one would doubt that, and you're also an excellent entrepreneur. So, I'm willing to accept your offer. And you? What do you need me to do?"

No one doubts that Ian Carr will be next year's Pulitzer Prize winner; it would be a miracle if we didn't get this news.

Hmm, maybe I should use this to make a bet?

Forget it, there's no need for that.

Ian laughed, thought for a moment, and said, "People say paparazzi have a great nose, but they're nowhere near as good as the FBI. It's just that the FBI always hides their information… that's such a waste. By the way, I remember you guys monitor everything, even Hollywood?"

Jon Brown remained silent.

Yes, they monitor more than just Hollywood.

They monitor everything, including major media outlets. CBS is a frequent target of FBI surveillance. When CBS releases information about Atta, the FBI specifically requests that it not show any human side of the organization—as this would not be conducive to promoting hatred towards the Taliban and al-Qaeda.

As a result, CBS had to cut some content.

Who doesn't have a background check?

At that moment, Ian said, "I want some information."

Jon shook his head: "I can't give it to you easily, too much would have too much of an impact."

"How about Sony Pictures? That part is fine, right?" Ian coaxed.

He's not in a hurry; we can take our time with the rest. Once you've given me a portion today, he'll give me more tomorrow.

With the help of Chatham and the FBI, plus his own operational capabilities, Ian will soon be able to uncover all of Sony's secrets.

Don't worry, they will be clean.

Do you think you can build a big company without doing something bad?

nonexistent!

There are only companies that abide by the law, not companies that abide by ethics!

Jon Brown took a deep breath: "If they find out I did it, I'm finished."

Ian waved one hand confidently and said, "The worst outcome is that you lose your job and become a contract consultant for Carl Media Group, doing nothing all year but drawing a million-dollar annual salary and suffering terribly from losing your goal."

He said this without even using hypnosis.

Money is the best form of hypnosis!

What use would I have for this cheat?

Jon Brown laughed: "I'll give it to you tomorrow."

(End of this chapter)