```
"Director Obadiah, what do you think?"
asked Consultant Welton Heng from across the table.
Obadiah remained silent for about ten seconds before replying, "Since you, Consultant Welton Heng believe so, let's go ahead with it..."
At those words, the faces of David's supporters, including Donald, suddenly turned pale, while the supporters of Brown and Bellamy looked visibly shaken, almost ready to high-five in celebration.
After the eting dispersed, Donald imdiately went to Obadiah's office to question him, "Director, why give the decision-making power to the Long Beach Branch? Before the assessnt period is over, they will definitely not release these taxes!"
"Do you think that's what I wanted, Donald?"
Obadiah glanced at him and explained, "You saw it yourself, Consultant Welton Heng has already stepped forward, and this whitewash tax could serve as campaign capital for the godmaking project. This is already a step back for him. We can't just veto the freeze on funds and not give him any face, right?"
"This... Sigh."
Donald wanted to say more, but thinking of Welton Heng's position as the Chief Consultant of the main bureau and his allegiances, rumored to be even closer to the president than Obadiah's, it made sense that Obadiah was cautious. Consequently, Donald could only sigh in resignation.
"David has even got a handle on a tough company like GCO, and there's still four days left. Even without this tax money, it's not certain he can't win, Donald."
"Let's hope so. I'll inform him first to let him prepare."
Donald pushed the door and left, and upon returning to his own office, imdiately called David's number: "Director David, I fear I have disappointing news."
"What is it?"
"Your 80 million-dollar funds, they are supposed to be whitewash rather than black tax, right?"
"Indeed, that's the tax GCO Corporation evaded before the black tax legislation."
"Well, the supporters of Bellamy and Brown at headquarters are attacking this point, claiming that as a spokesperson for the black tax legislation, whitewash cannot be used as campaign funds for the godmaking project. The Director and I fought tooth and nail to reject this notion, but as a compromise, we can't help with the Long Beach Branch freezing your funds."
"Fine, I'll handle it myself."
Donald had expected David to sound dejected on the other end of the phone, but to his surprise, David showed no signs of it, which caught him off guard. He then said, "Okay then, contact again if you need anything."
"Alright, goodbye Deputy Director Donald."
In the center of the Long Beach District, in a coffee shop across from Helun International Trading Company, David hung up the phone with a cold smirk on his face.
He knew that if Bellamy dared to freeze his funds, they must have so confidence.
However, he had not expected them to co up with such a far-fetched excuse that his funds didn't qualify as black tax and thus could not be used as capital for the godmaking project. That was a bit laughable!
But the silver lining was that Donald had confird that whitewash could also serve as capital for the competition for the godmaking project. Now, if only he could sort out the frozen funds, then Bellamy and Brown's supporters would have nothing left to say!
"What did the headquarters say, Director?"
Noticing sothing was amiss, Nisen imdiately asked.
"Getting the headquarters to help unfreeze the funds is impossible now, we can only rely on ourselves."
"What, what is going on with those higher-ups at headquarters? This is obviously Bellamy from the Long Beach Branch making trouble; how can they tolerate such behavior?"
Nisen, Simmons, and Bucky were all dumbfounded.
Although they had known that Bellamy had backers at headquarters, the higher-ups there couldn't be so brazen as to seize their tax money outright, could they?
```
What about the other senior officials, isn't there anyone to speak up for them?
"Alright, it doesn't matter if they don't care."
David had a backup plan in place; since the headquarters didn't care about the matter, all he needed to do was to get the Long Beach Branch on his side, and the funds would naturally be released.
Even though Nisen and the two others were still full of doubts, seeing David unwilling to elaborate, they dared not ask further.
As ti ticked by, it soon reached 5:30 PM.
At this mont, a large number of employees began to leave the Helun International Trading Company across the street.
Soon, the appearance of a tall, thin man with glasses caught his attention.
[Na: Trevicon Martin.]
[Occupation: Tax Director of Helun International Trading Company.]
[Inco: Monthly legal inco of $56,000, illegal inco of $2.3 million US Dollars.]
[Inco Details: On December 23, port cargo arrived, reporting false tax figures to profit $500,000 US Dollars, on December 31, the company managed port goods, profiting $500,000 US Dollars after cooking the books, on January 11 ...]
[Tax Due: $910,800 US Dollars.]
"Bring him over to , discreetly!"
David knew that the Long Beach Branch might be watching him, and although he had tried to keep a low profile on this trip, he couldn't be sure he hadn't been detected, so everything had to be done with a level of discretion.
Following David's orders, Nisen and Bucky both donned hats and headed in the direction of the tall, thin man with glasses.
Before long, the man with glasses was brought over. On seeing David, he asked with so confusion, "You are...?"
As the tax director of a company, he was very familiar with the IRS staff of the Long Beach Branch, but he had never seen the faces of David and Nisen's party.
And if Nisen hadn't shown his tax badge just now, he would not have co along so easily.
"No need to guess, we are not from the Long Beach Branch, I am from the Las Vegas branch, my na is David."
"David... wait a minute...!"
The man nad Trevicon seed to have rembered sothing, he began to stare at David, sizing him up. After a long while, he confird, "Are you the Director David who led an ard raid into the Indian Tribe?"
"It seems you do recognize ."
"After all, my job is related to taxation, how could I have not heard of you..."
Trevicon began to feel uneasy inside because he didn't understand what this infamous Chief Tax Officer wanted with him in Los Angeles.
"Alright, let's not talk about that. I ask you, you and Director Ducray of the Long Beach Branch, you are classmates, right?"
On hearing this, Trevicon gasped, but still tried to respond calmly, "Yes, that's no secret. What's the problem, is there an issue?"
"On the 11th of last month, you asked him to greenlight a tax issue for you, and in the end, you slipped him $80,000 US Dollars, am I wrong?"
"No, that's not the case!"
Trevicon's face changed color, imdiately followed by a rebuttal.
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