George’s Happy Event

The next day.

Lake arrived at the Department of Homeland Security New York State Branch, located on the Roosevelt Expressway near Jefferson Park, across the Hudson River from the Manhattan Psychiatric Center.

The New York State Branch building was a twenty-story white-walled structure.

The first through tenth floors were the office areas for field agents.

The eleventh through fifteenth floors were the office areas for desk agents.

The fifteenth through twentieth floors housed the supervisors from various assisting agencies and Lake’s floor.

Lake’s office was on the sixteenth floor.

Deputy Director of Operations.

However…

Although the Department of Homeland Security had been established, small cases didn’t require its involvement, and larger cases could be handled by the FBI in New York on their own.

Moreover, even if any escaped, the Director of Operations, David Bass, would take care of them.

Lake enjoyed the leisure.

David Bass was also very satisfied with this, as he enjoyed working on cases, and Lake rarely interfered or offered unsolicited opinions on operations. Thus, the two had gotten along quite well over the past three months.

Even…

A few nights ago, David Bass had invited Lake to his newly moved-in home for dinner with his wife and two children.

Lake’s office wasn’t large, similar to David’s next door, featuring both an office area and a lounge area.

However, Lake’s office had a wine cabinet filled with various fine bourbons. These were Lake’s prized possessions accumulated over many years, with each bourbon being a different brand, arranged from highest to lowest price from top to bottom.

He entered the room.

Poured a drink.

Opened his computer.

Lake did it all in one smooth motion, savoring his first sip of bourbon for the morning. He sighed, thinking this was his ideal part-time job.

Little work, good pay, and plenty of leisure time.

This…

Was a part-time job.

Whenever Lake thought about it carefully, he felt he had wasted several years at the NYPD. Compared to here, that part-time job at the NYPD was practically a nightmare.

It had almost turned a part-time job into a main one.

The more he thought about it, the less sense it made.

Lake shook his head, logged into the internal network that connected to all federal databases, and entered the name Victoria Knowles.

Soon.

Pages of information were selected.

There was some from Langley.

Some from the FBI.

And…

BATF?

What the heck? How could the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, which seemed completely unrelated, also have files?

Lake blinked and directly clicked on the first file, stroking his chin as he slowly read.

The file from Langley was similar to what Lister had provided last night: an arms dealer famous for her beautiful appearance. However, the assessment from the Langley agent included a few lines of text.

"Don’t be fooled by her beauty; she will kill you with it."

Heh, men.

Lake scoffed. Beauty never killed anyone. It was just that some men couldn’t move when they saw a beautiful woman, and thus they were manipulated by beautiful women.

Look at me.

I, Lake, am never swayed by beauty. If someone dares to cross my bottom line, I don’t care if they’re beautiful; I’ll kill them first.

Lake thought this to himself, then opened the files from the other agencies. After looking through them, he found they were mostly similar. As for the file from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, it stated that Victoria Knowles was connected to a warehouse explosion case four years ago.

"Hey, Tiffany."

"Sir."

"Help me request a file from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, file number 199802050142."

"Okay, is there anything else, sir?"

"No, thank you."

"You’re welcome, sir."

Lake hung up the call with his assistant. Although he was the Deputy Director of Operations, he still had his own assistant. When he was selecting people, Lake noticed that Tiffany was also a Yale graduate, so he chose her.

In the federal government, alumni connections are very important.

This is also why Lake chose to go to Yale. The alumni association shouldn’t just ask others for help; one must also help others.

After a while.

Tiffany, a graduate of Yale Law School who was preparing for the bar exam while working, walked in. Wearing glasses, she wasn’t stunningly beautiful but was certainly pleasant to look at. "Sir, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives has agreed. The files will arrive tomorrow morning."

Lake nodded, then asked curiously, "Where is Director Bass?"

Tiffany replied, "Director Bass is at the Federal Building for a meeting. It’s about a joint operation."

Lake nodded.

Seeing that Lake had no other requests, Tiffany turned and left the office.

The phone rang.

Lake opened the flip phone, glanced at the caller ID, smiled, and answered, "Good morning, George."

The call was from an old colleague at the NYPD, George Stacy.

George sounded excited on the phone, "Hahaha, Lake, come to the Per Restaurant near Columbus Circle tonight. My treat."

Lake chuckled, "Is there good news?"

Per Restaurant.

That was a high-end establishment. While George’s salary could afford it, he had a large family to support, so he usually only went there for very happy occasions.

George said, "Gwen received an A-level scholarship from Midtown High School."

Lake raised an eyebrow. "Wow, congratulations, man. That’s fantastic news, definitely worth celebrating."

An A-level scholarship.

An A-level scholarship at Midtown High School covered full tuition and provided a living stipend of up to $12,000 annually.

This was what people called "earning money by going to school."

The federal government’s preferential treatment for academic achievers was unimaginable, especially for outstanding scholars. If someone had been a top student from elementary school through high school and college, consistently receiving A-level scholarships, it was conservatively estimated that by the time they graduated from university, they would not only have spent no money but would have saved over $100,000.

George Stacy’s daughter, Gwen, was a prime example. If Gwen could maintain her A-level scholarship status in university, she would become the first person in federal history to achieve a grand slam.

Lake had similar fantasies when he was younger.

Unfortunately.

He had the ambition but lacked the capability. If there had been a way to obtain scholarships, Lake wouldn’t have chosen the "free ride" path through the military.

In the afternoon.

Lake left work early and drove to the Hamilton Watch Store in Midtown Manhattan. He selected a moderately priced women’s watch, neither too expensive nor too cheap, intending to give it to Gwen as a gift during dinner that evening.

After a short wait.

Lake thanked the store clerk who had packaged the gift box and then drove away.

Columbus Circle.

Per Restaurant.

Lake parked his car and followed the attendant inside. George’s family was already there, as was Beckett from Team Two.

"Uncle Lake."

"Gwen."

Lake greeted everyone and handed over the gift box he was holding. "Congratulations on achieving the A-level scholarship at high school. You’re only one step away from university. You should consider Yale."