[Chapter 749: Recovered Claws]
Facing the wild counterattack from the Elephants, Clinton really felt that he was at his limit. As for who would take the blame, it clearly wasn't going to be him.
Of course, his anger towards the CIA's lawlessness had driven him nearly insane. A friend he had grown up with had died mysteriously. It was clearly a premeditated murder, yet it was being labeled a suicide.
Suicide, my foot! How could someone who acts as a legal advisor be so weak? And what was he really doing in Europe? You really think I don't know anything about it?
But then, it seemed this mess was a bit larger and more complicated than he had initially thought. And that damn Leo Wanta? He was a bastard for not telling him the truth.
He chuckled bitterly, realizing that if the tables were turned, he probably wouldn't have been honest either.
To be honest, Clinton was scared. Damn it, this position he was in wasn't what he expected.
"Tax evasion? Are you kidding me?" he exclaimed.
"Well, sir, the IRS in Wisconsin stated that Leo Wanta is suspected of tax evasion and they now want to extradite him from Switzerland."
"No way, are they really planning to make this public? Do they even know how much money is involved?"
...
There was hardly any coverage on Leo Wanta in legitimate media. Let's just say, over ninety-five percent of Americans had no idea about this. William White didn't remember the specifics well, making it all the more understandable.
"Master, it's a little over ten thousand dollars, based on the official reports, that's about the number."
William White suddenly burst into a fierce coughing fit. He was genuinely shocked. "Really? Can't they at least spare a little dignity for the world's richest man?"
"Ten grand, that's just one of Leo Wanta's lunches?" he scoffed.
"Master, looks like he had a fallout with Pentagon or someone doesn't want him talking to the Pentagon."
"Ha, how thick-headed can they be? Do those idiots at the CIA not realize that whoever holds the money ends up dead?" He shook his head. "If I were Leo Wanta, in a situation like this, I might as well spill everything. Those damn bastards could go down with me."
"Master, he's still in Switzerland. Should we just take him?"
"No need, I'm not interested in him or his money. I'm curious about where that money ultimately goes. If I'm not mistaken, that's the ultimate big boss in America."
"I see what to do now. Ever since he got arrested by Swiss police, many things have kind of gone silent."
"Arrested? Tanner, how could this happen? Didn't he say he was the ambassador of Somalia?"
"The Swiss don't recognize his diplomatic status, and speaking of Somalia, things have been chaotic lately. Nearly twenty factions exist, and not a single legitimate governing body. Master, he might as well say he's the ambassador of Sudan."
Well, William White truly didn't know what to say. His ambassadorial status was likely real; it was also one of Leo Wanta's protective charms. As for whether Somalia would recognize it, that was actually irrelevant. If you weren't a country recognized by the international community, what did it matter if you had an ambassador? If they didn't recognize him, they simply wouldn't.
Still, nobody likely doubted he was with the CIA. Pretending to be an ambassador for a country like that wasn't too wise.
"Ha! American soldiers got beaten so badly in Somalia, and now there's an American claiming to be the ambassador? This is too rich!"
Then he looked at this guy's social circle -- Asia, Africa, Europe, and America. The high-level people he knew were all right there. Getting caught for tax evasion over ten grand? Damn it, couldn't they just pay him off with cash?
To be honest, the IRS in America was ridiculous. You could say they were everywhere or that they had incredible powers. As long as you were American, tax payment and death were unavoidable. But one thing was clear: if you evaded taxes, you generally didn't face severe consequences. America operated on a self-reporting tax system, which meant that as long as you reported, you were good to go.
What if you underreported?
No problem; there was less than a ten percent audit rate. As long as you were in that ninety percent, nobody could touch you. And even if you were unlucky, it was still manageable.
That's how it was done -- if you caught me, I'd simply pay the back taxes. "I just accidentally made a mistake."
Would there be fines?
Nope, as long as you paid the taxes, you could keep on living freely. As for those who ended up in jail, cough, cough -- they just squandered their money. Well, that was their problem; they could sit in prison.
It was nothing short of astounding that such a bizarre situation unfolded in modern society. Just think about it -- this involved the IRS and the CIA.
If it went through the judicial process, it would also involve the Justice Department. Ding-ding-doo, along with the hidden schemes of Pentagon and the Federal Reserve, let's not even get into international affairs -- if you didn't have some serious skills, you could never navigate this mess.
Thinking deeply about it was truly terrifying.
At this point, if Clinton still couldn't figure things out, then his childhood friend had died for nothing.
If he dared to reach further, ha, they might send in a couple more crazies. Rest assured, crazy people would show up where they were meant to be.
After being overly scared, greed evaporated. Of course, people whose motto was "money over life" existed, but clearly, Clinton wasn't one of them.
Was that it then?
Of course not, as so many had died in the Wanta plan. For now, this was just the beginning.
Just think about it. The numbers capable of making William White's heart race were truly vast wealth. To be precise, it wasn't wealth, just money.
Don't confuse the two; there's a significant difference between them. Wealth is something you can splurge at any time, anywhere, and that's what makes it appealing.
...
"Dad, is this where it ends? Wasn't it supposed to be a done deal?"
"Ha, son, where did you get this idea of a done deal? Your old man spent four years, and the CIA and Justice Department still didn't smooth things out. Now that guy's only been in office a few days; how could it possibly work like clockwork?"
"Ha! Those arms dealers must be in a panic right now. And that Sikorsky company must be going crazy too."
Bush Sr. managed a bitter smile; Boeing wasn't faring much better. While dealing with Saddam, the Apache was getting battered as well. This aircraft might fool some desert sheikhs, but European allies definitely wouldn't buy it.
"Son, that's not the key issue. The real question is whether that kid from Arkansas has the guts to continue trying after this setback. If not, that'll be a boost for you."
"Ugh, those two-faced folks."
"Ha! Silly son, there are no permanent friends, only permanent interests. If a politician can't grasp that, he might as well stay home and tend to the cows, while also giving me a few more grandkids."
Bush Jr. wore a look of disbelief. He genuinely didn't want to deal with those folks. But if staying home meant just having kids? Good heavens, that seemed even worse.
Once he calmed down, Bush Sr. realized he had figured out many issues. Staying in that position was mostly pointless. They said there was no harm without comparison; if he wasn't mistaken, Clinton would swing from one extreme to another.
Striking out everywhere was thrilling, too bad he had neither money nor a reliable army on his hands. Ha! If he couldn't even overpower the locals, who did he think he'd be able to affect?
Gaddafi and Saddam both had missiles. If he couldn't even win against an AK-47 or an RPG, then if they had no idea how to deal with him, it truly might be time for him to take a dip in the Pacific.
*****
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