If the GCO Corporation dared not pay this tax, then once he returned, he would simply seize all of GCO Corporation's operations in Nevada State.
He really did not believe that GCO Corporation would dare to give up their entire business in Nevada State over a mere tens of millions of dollars.
With David's declaration, the others ceased their idle chatter and subsequently hailed a taxi to head towards the GCO Headquarters.
Meanwhile, in the Intelligence Department of the Los Angeles Long Beach Division of the National Tax Bureau Branch,
"Fuck!!!"
Dozens of intelligence officers were facing a mass of monitors, observing intently, when suddenly, one of them seemed to have discovered something and cursed out of shock.
His curse drew the side-glances of all the intelligence officers onsite, one of which directly asked, "What's the situation, Luke?"
"Come over and take a look at this."
At his words, a crowd of intelligence officers gathered around, and the one named Luke began tapping incessantly on the keyboard.
Soon, the footage on the monitor was rewound, stopping at the moment David and his entourage appeared on screen at the Long Beach International Airport.
"Is that... is that David from Las Vegas?"
"Seems like it..."
"Impossible, isn't his jurisdiction Nevada State? What's he suddenly doing in our Los Angeles?"
The others in Los Angeles might not be too familiar with David, but being part of the National Tax Bureau, they were naturally very familiar with him.
This was the biggest competitor to their own Chief Tax Officer, Bellamy Hattie, besides Brown Soros from New York!
Furthermore, the armed operation at the Indian Reservation had also propelled David to the front page of the national headlines.
If they still didn't recognize David's face by now, that would be really strange.
As they discussed, the intelligence officer named Luke started another operation, and soon the big screen displayed a facial recognition system function.
"Ten minutes ago, David from the Lake District of Las Vegas arrived in our jurisdiction by plane."
Bellamy's somewhat lethargic demeanor shifted at hearing the news, but he quickly asked, "Are you sure?"
"Our facial recognition system has confirmed it; it's him without a doubt."
Bellamy's expression turned grave.
Now there were only four days left until the end of the assessment period, and David's tax performance not only lagged significantly behind Brown Soros', but also behind his.
Arriving in Los Angeles at this critical juncture, he certainly wasn't here for a leisure trip; he must be here to work on tax collection.
But this was Long Beach District, his Bellamy Hattie's turf. David could bully his way around in Nevada State all he wanted, but now he dared to extend his reach into his territory?
Was he treating him as if he were dead?
"Go, tell the intelligence department that they can drop other tasks, keep a close eye on him, see who he contacts, and what he intends to do, and report back at any time!"
Hearing Trollope's instructions, Luke nodded and turned to leave.
"Chief Tax Officer, that guy's reach is too long, but don't worry, no matter what he finds, this is our jurisdiction, I guarantee he won't take away a single dollar of tax performance!"
Trollope was clearly displeased with David extending his reach to their Long Beach District.
They were in the midst of competition after all.
You, David, should stay in your Nevada State. Yet you've come to Long Beach District. Isn't this snatching food from the tiger's mouth?
He'd made up his mind, no matter what person or case David uncovered, he planned to 'take over'.
He didn't believe that in their territory, David could do anything substantial!
Bellamy did not respond, but his facial expression seemed to agree with Trollope's words.
Another twenty minutes passed.