Chapter 74: History Teacher Charlie? No, It's the Crime Boss Tarasov! (5000 words) (Page 1/2)
The news David overheard by chance saved him a lot of trouble.
He had originally wanted to confirm if Tarasov was a new underground operative in Princeton supported by a seat on the High Table.
Now, it was basically certain that this guy Tarasov came entirely from street forces.
Relying on his ability to read people and his extremely distinct personal charisma, he gathered a group of subordinates who were only loyal to him.
Having laid low for three years, Tarasov had clearly figured out the weaknesses of the various gangs in Princeton, big and small.
After the Russian Mob, which had dominated everything, was struck by a mysterious person, Tarasov immediately realized his opportunity had come.
So, taking advantage of the power vacuum in Princeton's underworld, he rose from these chaotic streets, becoming unstoppable.
He almost occupied half of Princeton's underground operations in the shortest possible time.
And the method Tarasov used was also very simple: he had his fearless subordinates assassinate the leaders, and after their organizations were left leaderless, he would directly absorb them.
Then he would break up the members from his original crew and reorganize them into new teams, thus building a force loyal to himself.
Moreover, because his rise was too rapid, many people had not seen Tarasov's true appearance, only heard his name.
This resulted in them being unable to find the person even if they wanted to take him out.
This is why the incident of them turning to the FBI and using the influence of HR to force the authorities to crack down on Tarasov occurred.
The two small-time gang leaders currently in the hospital room, who were previously affiliated with the Russian Mob, were on Tarasov's hit list.
It was just that Smith was fearless, even wanting to use himself as bait to make Tarasov take a risk.
His older brother Joey, however, was tired of the fighting and just wanted to testify in court against Tarasov for murder, regardless of his safety.
It could also be considered the last thing he did for the organization.
Finally, he could also rely on the witness protection program to disappear and stay away from the conflicts of the underworld.
However, based on David's understanding of Tarasov, Joey was definitely going to die.
It's just that the enemy of an enemy is a friend.
Since it was confirmed that Tarasov was an enemy of the High Table, temporary cooperation was acceptable.
This temporary cooperation naturally included ignoring the assassination Joey was about to face.
He had no reason to save Joey again, especially since Joey had an annoying younger brother.
Furthermore, cooperating with the High Table meant that the two brothers, Joey and Smith, were his enemies.
David would never be soft-hearted toward his enemies.
"Smith... Heh."
David quickly had a new plan forming in his mind.
He left the vicinity of the hospital room before Smith came out, and at the same time, he took out his phone from his pocket and contacted Root, who was preparing to close her psychology practice.
Root's purpose for running the psychology practice was originally to gather information, and since David had pointed it out to her, there was naturally no need for her to continue running it.
So, when she received David's message, Root, who had nothing else to do, quickly replied.
When David saw Root again, Root was not wearing that low-cut, sexy dress.
That was just a small trick she used to make men lower their psychological defenses.
Since she couldn't affect David, she didn't want to spend effort on dressing up.
Now, Root had wrapped her attractive figure in more conservative clothes.
And the coffee service she had offered last time was, of course, no longer available.
However, David acted as if he were right at home, making himself a cup of coffee and then getting straight to the point:
"I need your help."
Facing David's direct statement, Root was not surprised; after all, she was a top hacker with powerful computing ability and logical thinking.
So, when David chose this place instead of a restaurant for their meeting, she guessed that David needed help.
"What's in it for me if I help you?"
David smiled:
"Do you remember last time I said I would let you meet Finch, the creator of the Machine?
If you agree to help me, I will arrange your meeting tonight."
As soon as David finished speaking, excitement showed on Root's face.
She could be indifferent to many things, but she cared deeply about anything related to the Machine.
Clearly, David understood this point well and used it effectively.
But Root was willing to be used; as long as she could meet the creator of the Machine, it was all worth it.
"Really?"
"Really."
After receiving David's confirmation, Root was also decisive; she said directly:
"Tell me, what do you need me to do."
David placed a file folder containing documents on the coffee table and pushed it over:
"I need you to grab the target. I will inform you of the location later."
Root's face was calm; she opened the folder and pulled out the document with Smith's photo.
It contained Smith's basic information, and most importantly, information about where he would appear.
Root looked at the four words "prefers to work alone" written on the document and nodded:
"I'll take this job."
Hearing that Root accepted his proposal, David didn't waste any more words; after drinking the coffee in his cup in one gulp, he stood up and said:
"Then I'll wait for your good news, Root."
After David left, Root looked at the photo on the document thoughtfully.
The partial tattoo visible on this person's neck was sufficient proof of his identity—a gang member.
David actually wanted to provoke these people? What exactly did this guy, who knew her identity and had such a close relationship with the Machine, want to do?
...
Leaving Root's psychology practice, David rushed non-stop to the abandoned library.
He needed information about Tarasov.
Finch looked at the rushing David with some confusion.
In the past, David would not come to the secret base before sunset.
He vaguely realized that this matter might be out of the ordinary.
"What's wrong? Did something happen?"
David didn't answer; after all, Finch and Reese, as they were now, couldn't understand the matter of cooperating with gang members.
He just counter-asked:
"Have you found Tarasov?"
Hearing Tarasov's name, a strange look appeared on Finch's face:
"I was just about to tell you about this. I hacked into the police database.
Then I performed facial recognition comparison based on the sketch you drew.
I did find this person, but this person is not Tarasov.
His name is Charlie Burton, he's a high school history teacher, teaches in the nearby school district, lives alone, and has never been married.
I had Reese observe him for two days, and his life is very routine.
He wakes up at a fixed time every day to go to work, then voluntarily stays late until the evening, and then goes to a deli to buy minestrone soup for dinner.
You're saying a guy like this is a recently risen crime boss? He really doesn't look like it to me."
David looked at the middle-aged man on the computer screen who was slightly out of shape, wore plain glasses, and was largely bald.
He could be certain that this was Tarasov.
However...
"Ah ha, well, it's possible I made a mistake.
You know, the Machine processes a huge amount of information in a day, so maybe I saw it wrong.
Um, I'll write down the address, let me go and contact him first."
"Contact him? No, there's no need for that..."
As soon as Finch finished speaking, the Machine produced a new number.
"Huh? There's another irrelevant number. Wait a moment, let me see who it is this time."
Finch immediately converted it into a social security number using the decoder he compiled, and then entered this somewhat familiar social security number into the police national database.
Soon a familiar photo popped up; it was Charlie Burton.
Finch's expression became even more strange; he looked at David suspiciously.
This was too much of a coincidence. David had just said he was going to visit him, and then the Machine produced Charlie's irrelevant number?
He couldn't see any threat coming from Charlie.
As for David, he didn't originally believe that a patient with late-stage cancer could do anything astonishing.
Until that day, when Reese came back and revealed a piece of information to him.
After David was able to quickly pick up firearms and master them exceptionally well.
Only then did he understand that the David before him was not a patient too weak to handle a gun, but a formidable man with explosive psychological resilience and combat skills.
At first, Finch also found David's outrageous actions difficult to understand.
Until David brought Eddie to show him the effects of NZT, he somewhat understood.
This David had an edge.
He was going to die anyway, so he experimented with drugs on himself without restraint, which was why he could become very strong.
Moreover, Finch also found evidence to support his theory.
After analyzing some powder David accidentally dropped, he discovered that David wasn't just taking NZT, he was also taking some prescription medications.
These drugs shared a common characteristic: they could relieve pain and stimulate brain function.
So now, he wasn't worried that Charlie would harm David; instead, he was worried that David would harm Charlie.
He vaguely realized that Charlie was probably not as simple as he seemed.
Because David had always been very purposeful, from actively seeking him out, to persuading McCall to join the team, then bringing in Eddie, who had the potential to run for city council, and finally Walter, who was responsible for researching NZT.
Every step David took had a plan for the future.
He didn't quite believe that this Charlie was really someone David hallucinated and mentioned randomly.
Or is this guy really Tarasov?
Then what did David want to find him for?
The more questions Finch thought about in his mind, the more they multiplied, but the key was that if David didn't say anything, Finch would never be able to figure out the answer.
Just as Finch, who could finally hold back no longer, was about to speak and ask, David, who had gotten the address, had already left.
So urgent?
After thinking about it, Finch still called Reese and McCall.
"David is now preparing to contact Charlie. Charlie is an 'irrelevant number' that the Machine just outputted."
"I suspect something big is going to happen. Go and look after him to prevent David from having a sudden episode."
Reese on the other end of the phone hung up the call, which was on speakerphone, and shrugged at McCall, who looked equally confused.
"Maybe David knows something, I'm not sure. It always feels like this guy's brain is several steps ahead of ours."
McCall nodded in agreement:
"Do you think this is all because of that 'Machine'?"
"Is that 'Machine' really that powerful? I always feel like there's something not quite right about this David."
Reese shook his head:
"I don't know. I only know that David and our goals are the same, and that's enough."
"As for the rest, I'm too lazy to think about it that much."
Hearing Reese's answer, McCall thought about it and felt he was right.
They weren't getting married and starting a family, so why overthink things?
As long as their ideas were aligned, that was fine.
"Let's go, let's see why this David is taking the risk to contact Charlie."
...
David, who had gotten the address early, also anticipated the actions Finch would take.
However, they couldn't confirm for now that Charlie was Tarasov, the one stirring up the underground scene in Princeton.
So he could use this window of time to make a deal with Tarasov.
As long as the deal was made, everything would be easy.
In David's memory, Tarasov was a man who kept his word.
Moreover, the deal he proposed would definitely resonate with Tarasov.
Soon, David's phone vibrated. Root had succeeded.
David didn't ask Root for details on how she succeeded. Anyway, dealing with a Smith with injured hands, Root shouldn't fail.
Then he sent the address of the apartment where Tarasov was located.
Not long after, the two met up. Root smiled and opened the car's trunk, saying 'Hi' to Smith, who was tightly bound inside.
Smith, with his mouth gagged and thrown in the trunk, kept wriggling like a worm, making muffled sounds.
But soon his pupils rapidly contracted, because he saw a familiar figure—David!
This discovery immediately enraged him.
With his eyes instantly bloodshot, he struggled wildly, wanting to tear this audacious guy into pieces.
"Hey, Mr. Smith, I'm sorry we're meeting again under these circumstances."
"But please calm down, okay... Hmm, it seems you don't like taking advice from others, so..."
Bang!
David accurately struck the back of Smith's neck with a chop. The movement in the trunk immediately stopped.
Root's eyes showed a hint of surprise when she saw David's clean and decisive strike.
To use a chop to strike a person's neck and cause them to lose consciousness requires considerable strength.
This David looked thin and lean, but the strength he unleashed was quite significant.
But the next second, Root retracted this thought.
Because David said:
"Give me a hand, this guy is too heavy. We have to carry him up to the fourth floor."
Root rolled her eyes. This guy really didn't see her as a woman.
First, he was sure she could handle Smith, and now he was asking her to help carry him.
Could it be that this guy already understood her deeply?
But she was very sure that she and David had only met for the first time not long ago, so the only answer could still point to the omnipotent 'Machine'.
With the cooperation of the two, they successfully blended into the building, treating the unconscious Smith as a drunk friend, and then knocked on Charlie's, or Tarasov's, door.
Tarasov, wearing glasses and a gray cardigan, looked like an average guy.
When he saw the strange combination of two people and an unconscious man at the door, his eyes appropriately showed a look of surprise.
"Can I help you?"
David grinned, showing his white teeth, and said:
"Looking for you, Mr. Burton. Don't you remember? You taught me three years ago."
"Aren't you going to invite us in?"
Tarasov prided himself on having a good memory, but he couldn't remember when he had taught this guy.
After all, this guy's face had distinct features and was very recognizable. If he had taught such a student, he shouldn't have forgotten.
And even if he had taught him, why would he bring a companion who looked unconscious and a young woman here now? To have a party?
But before he could find the correct result from his memory, David and Root, along with the unconscious Smith, pushed past him and squeezed into the apartment.
Then they dropped Smith onto the sofa, letting him roll onto the floor.
Meanwhile, David went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, took out two bottles of soda, threw one to Root, and drank one himself, not treating himself as a guest at all.
Tarasov was completely stunned at the door.
Is this seriously happening? How did he just treat his place as his own?
Absurd, it's really too absurd!
Just as Tarasov was about to tell David to get out of his apartment, he caught a glimpse of the face of the guy who had rolled onto the floor and had been keeping his head down—Smith?!
Smith of the Vitali family?!
They found out who he was?!
Was this revenge?!
He had just sent Smith's brother, Joey, on his way with a car bomb.
How did this guy get the news so quickly?
But why did this guy seem unconscious?
A series of questions appeared in Tarasov's mind.
He was a bit confused about which organization this man and woman in front of him were sent by.
Logically, if they were a hostile force, they wouldn't waste words with him; this wasn't a movie.
A real hit would be them coming in with masks, putting two in him to finish him off, and then leaving the scene immediately.
They wouldn't be like now, acting as if they owned the place, picking out soda from the refrigerator and drinking freely.
Tarasov, feeling uncertain, calmed his surprised emotions and walked toward the kitchen, pretending not to know anything.
It looked like Tarasov was also preparing to get himself a bottle of soda, but in reality, his target was the chef's knife by the cutting board.
Grabbing that knife and then turning around to hold it against David's throat, this process wouldn't take more than two seconds.
Then he would firmly hold the upper hand!
But plans always change. Just as he was preparing to walk into the kitchen, that thin guy blocked his path and said something that shocked him greatly.
"Don't rush to get the knife. Let's sit down and have a good talk first."
Tarasov, whose intentions were seen through, tried his best to keep his facial expression unchanged:
"Get a knife? No, I just want to get a bottle of soda."
David chuckled and took out another bottle of soda for him:
"Alright, now you have soda. So, let's sit down and chat, Mr. Burton."
Tarasov turned his back, took a deep breath, walked to the sofa, and sat down as naturally as possible.
"So, what do you want to talk about now?"
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