noveltune Chapter 41 Secret Service Recruitment
Chapter 41 Secret Service Recruitment
Tom never expected that Frank would catch up with him.
"The items have been found?" Tom glanced at the joy on Frank's face and immediately understood that the missing weapons had probably been found.
Frank grinned, his smile genuine. "Thanks to you, Tom."
Tom shook his head, picked up a dry branch and threw it into the fire, and the flames shot up a few inches higher.
"I just told you everything I knew." He dusted off his hands.
Frank handed over the whiskey he was carrying, but Tom waved his hand, saying, "No, I have to get going early tomorrow."
"In such a hurry to leave?" Frank sat down beside him, the firelight reflecting in his shrewd eyes. "Tom, I know why you want to leave. But you can't go back on your promised reward."
Tom didn't even bother to lift his eyelids.
In the past, there was no room for negotiation when it came to rewards.
But right now?
To hell with the reward!
He just wanted to get rid of all this trouble behind him immediately.
Seeing that he remained unmoved, Frank changed the subject: "You're still young. Broaden your horizons and see the world. How about going to a big city and trying your luck?"
"Not interested." Tom stared at the leaping flames. "If you have nothing else to do, you should get some rest."
He wondered to himself, what exactly was Frank trying to achieve by chasing after him?
"Of course I have something to say!" Frank, as if expecting his coldness, continued on his own, "Remember the job I mentioned to you? In a big city, New York, Chicago, Boston, San Francisco... the choice is yours!"
"You can go anywhere you want."
Tom remained silent; all he wanted was to reunite with his family and go to Oregon together.
Frank then offered the real bait: "As for salary, daily, weekly, or monthly payments are all fine. I guarantee you'll reach this amount after a year."
He held up three fingers. "At least three thousand dollars!"
Tom finally moved.
The workers' annual salary is just over two thousand dollars, three thousand dollars? That's the price for managers.
"What kind of job?" he asked in a low voice, finally turning his head.
A sly, old fox-like smile flashed across Frank's eyes: "Investigating counterfeit money, chasing down bank robberies, dismantling smuggling networks... In short, all the shady dealings involving 'money' are under our jurisdiction."
Tom frowned, staring at him suspiciously. "You're not a Texas Ranger?"
Frank chuckled and shook his head: "That was temporary, just to find arms suppliers. Once it's done, I have to go back to New York."
"So who exactly are you...?" Tom pressed.
Frank lowered his voice, a hint of mystery in it: "Agent."
"police?"
Seeing Tom's bewildered expression, Frank couldn't help but laugh. He leaned closer, lowering his voice even further: "Have you heard of... the Secret Service?"
Secret Service!
Tom's back straightened instantly. The U.S. Secret Service, the agency that protects the president?
Frank was clearly taken aback by Tom's reaction, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes: "You knew?"
Tom caught the hint of suspicion and calmly explained, "I read it in the newspaper." His tone was flat.
"Wow! So young, and you already read the newspaper?" Frank was a little surprised, then relaxed. "Okay, that makes things easier. I'm a Secret Service investigator; to outsiders, I'm called an agent!"
Tom truly hadn't expected that Frank, this seasoned veteran, was actually a member of the Secret Service! This was quite a surprise.
After all, at that time, the Secret Service was still under the jurisdiction of the Treasury Department.
Immediately afterwards, a huge wave of doubt washed over me.
He stared at Frank, his tone scrutinizing: "Frank, are you sure... you can offer me a three thousand dollar annual salary?"
Frank's eyes flickered visibly, then he stiffened his neck, his expression one of desperate desperation: "...Another bonus!"
Tom chuckled, the firelight dancing in his eyes: "If I were to work as a bounty hunter on my own, I might not be able to earn less than three thousand dollars a year!"
"...Two thousand!" Frank gritted his teeth, as if all his courage had been drained away. "Two thousand dollars! Is that alright?"
"No matter the cost," Tom shook his head resolutely, "I'm going to find my family."
"Tom!" Frank's voice suddenly rose, filled with the frustration of being rejected. "Do you know why I absolutely need you?"
He took a big gulp of liquor, the spicy liquid seemingly giving him some support.
"Listen, the Secret Service used to be a lackey of the Treasury Department, but this year, it's going to be independent! A completely new, independent department!"
"We'll no longer be bound by the Ministry of Finance; we can act freely and investigate the cases we're supposed to investigate!"
He took a breath, his gaze fixed intently on Tom, as if trying to burn a hole in his face: "We need fresh blood, we need someone like you..."
"Come on, Frank."
Tom interrupted him rudely, his tone as calm as if stating a fact, "As far as I know, your Secret Service only has a few dozen people in total. Tell me, why are there so few?"
"They're no good!" Frank growled suddenly, his face turning bright red, as if he'd been stepped on.
"Oh?" Tom's lips curled into a knowing smile, his words steady yet cutting. "Because this job has too high a barrier to entry? You need to understand financial accounting, your marksmanship has to be decent, and you often have to go into dangerous territory alone... One slip and you're 'gloriously' gone, right?"
Frank's expression grew increasingly grim.
Tom added insult to injury: "More importantly, the work is difficult and dangerous, and the pay is pitifully low. Who could do it as an ordinary person?"
"...But this is the sacred mission of a patriot!"
Frank practically roared, his chest heaving, "In critical moments, we are the president's last line of defense! For the country, we are willing to sacrifice ourselves!"
"Yes, you're right." Tom's tone was flat and even slightly sarcastic. "It's certainly suitable for a veteran like you."
Frank suddenly leaned close to Tom, so close he could smell the alcohol, his eyes sharp as an eagle's: "Tom, do you know who was the first director after the Secret Service became independent?"
Tom was puzzled by the question and instinctively asked, "Who?"
"I!" Frank enunciated each word clearly, each syllable like a hammer blow on an anvil, "Frank White! Director of the Secret Service!"
Tom was completely stunned.
Is this furious, seasoned veteran the bureau chief?
Frank straightened his back, instantly regaining his authority, though a blush still lingered on his face: "Now, do you know who you're talking to? The Director of the Secret Service! Name your conditions now!"
"Tom," his voice softened, carrying an undeniable certainty, "you're outstanding. From the first moment I saw you, I knew you were born for this!"
Tom was indeed shocked by this identity.
Dozens of men? Elite troops! He admitted that.
but……
"Although this is unexpected," Tom took a deep breath, his eyes regaining their resolve, "my decision will not change."
"F**k!!" Frank's composure crumbled instantly, and he let out a rough roar, spinning around in anger.
A few seconds later, he forced down his raging anger, turned around abruptly, put his hands on his knees, and looked down at Tom!