American Tax Officer-Chapter 517 - 266: National Tax Inspector Killed_3

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"This...I never thought they would dare to fire. Maybe the timing was a bit off, and those guys were a little too high, mistaking us for troublemakers..."

As the two were talking, the lights in the emergency room suddenly went out, and immediately several emergency personnel came out.

David and the others were the first to crowd around, anxiously asking, "How is it, doctor."

"The bullet hit the lung, causing massive internal bleeding. We did everything we could, but I’m sorry..."

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Upon hearing this, Nisen felt as though he had plunged into an ice cellar, and David’s face wasn’t looking much better either.

Although in America, people die every day from gunshot wounds, the death of an Inspector of the tax authority was no small matter, especially since this happened just a few days after he took office as Director of Police. The backlash he was about to face was foreseeable.

"My husband, doctor, how is my husband?"

At a moment when the atmosphere had grown heavy, a voice laced with sobbing came through, and David and the others turned to see a forty-year-old woman and a teenager about eighteen or nineteen years old, who had appeared at the scene at some point.

"Director, that’s Huggins’ wife and son."

An Inspector standing beside Nisen explained.

Upon hearing this, David’s head began to ache even more, and he was at a loss for words.

"Sorry, ma’am, we did all we could."

"Oh no... Huggins..."

The emergency personnel’s words made Huggins’ wife break down, and she crazily rushed towards the emergency room, but fortunately, the Inspectors on the scene were sharp-eyed and stopped her, consoling her.

David could not stay silent any longer; he stepped up to Huggins’ wife and, seeing her in a state of collapse, she somewhat regained her senses and questioned him, "Director David, tell me what happened. How could my husband just be gone like this?"

"I’m very sorry, ma’am. It was our fault..."

"What’s the use of it being your fault? My husband is gone now, sob sob sob..."

Huggins’ wife’s tearful words left David somewhat at a loss for words. He could only offer a few words of comfort before stepping aside and saying to Nisen, "Nisen, you’ve been at the tax authority for so long, how could this happen?"

David wasn’t the kind of leader who liked to scold his subordinates, especially one like Nisen, who had risen through the ranks with him, but this matter was handled so poorly it frustrated him too.

"I’m sorry, Director, it’s my responsibility. I’ll resign..."

As the commander of this operation, Nisen certainly had to accept responsibility for the incident.

And he was well aware that, due to the incident involving David, the resulting public outcry would be immense.

So he intended to take on the responsibility by offering his resignation, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure on David.

"Resign? Let’s resolve this matter first. Who fired the shots, was it someone from the Sackler family or someone else?"

"That kid was indeed a member of the Sackler family."

"Good, we must put this on them, and they must pay a blood debt!"

Originally, David had planned to collect evidence and, if the family were sensible enough to pay up quietly, he would have heavily fined them and then dragged them out for a public shaming. But now that his Inspector had been killed, it was a slap in the face both to the tax authority and to him personally, and the only way to save face was to retaliate fiercely.

Sackler family, your end is near!

"Director David."

As they spoke, a young man walked up from behind; it turned out to be Huggins’ son. He stifled his grief with red-rimmed eyes and said, "Director David, no matter what, the murderer must pay."

"What’s your name?"

"Morridge Ripdos."

"Alright, Morridge, don’t worry. I will ensure the murderer pays, I promise you that!"

...

"Good evening, friends and viewers, breaking news late at night. Not long ago, a shooting took place at Met Bar. An Inspector was shot on the spot, and the hospital has announced that all attempts at resuscitation have failed, and he is deceased. Moreover, according to people in the know, this operation by the tax authority was ordered by the newly appointed Director of Police, David..."

In the Marino Villa Area of Santa Monica District, within a 2000 square meter villa, a group of young men and women watched the news being broadcasted on TV, their faces slack, their chests heaving.

"Wait, the people who came to us just now were from the tax authority?"

They were the people who had fled the chaos in the private room at Met Bar. At the time, they too thought they were being accosted by some extreme victim or their relatives.

After all, the Sackler family’s reputation was so tarnished from selling the poison OxyContin that it wasn’t unusual to be the target of revenge.

But now, watching the news broadcast on TV, this was no case of vendetta by extreme victims. These were people from the tax authority!

Furthermore, the news report said that an Inspector had died in the shootout?

But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst part was that the reporter at the scene mentioned that this seemed to involve the recently high-profile Director David from Los Angeles?

"Rock, it’s got to do with the tax authority and even the Director David. This is going to be big trouble."

Many of the men and women turned their attention to a rather slim man.

This man’s full name was Rock Sackler, a grandson of Arthur Sackler, the current head of the Sackler family.

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