Capítulo 381: Chapter 381: The Accident is Not Serious; It's Just a Coma
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Off the coast of Los Angeles, on a dilapidated cargo ship.
Facing the black muzzles of guns, the hostages turned pale with fear. "What are you going to do to us?" one of them stammered.
"It's simple," the lead kidnapper sneered. "You've been kidnapped. We're going to extort a ransom from your families—$20,000 each. If they don't pay, none of you will leave here alive."
The kidnapper's grin widened as he continued, "I'll give you a chance to write to your families. If they don't pay up, I'm afraid you'll end up feeding the fish."
"You're committing a crime!" a young man shouted, disgust evident in his voice.
"Bang!"
The kidnapper fired without hesitation, the bullet piercing the young man's thigh. He collapsed to the ground, clutching his leg, screaming in agony.
"I'm not joking. If anyone here wants to die now, just stand up, and I'll oblige," the leader said coldly.
The shot silenced the group, the reality of their situation sinking in. It was the 1950s—a time when gang violence was rampant in the United States. While law enforcement had improved in cities like Los Angeles and San Francisco, other areas were still plagued by daily gang-related killings.
The hostages, terrified, began writing letters to their families. After finishing, they were herded into cold, empty storage rooms, where they sat on iron plates, deprived of food and water. Only after desperate pleading did they receive a meager ration before being locked away again, left to endure their dark, dismal days.
In one of the cabins, someone whispered, "Do you think these kidnappers were sent by Jon Hardy?"
"There's no doubt about it," another replied. "When McKinsey decided to go after him, I knew this would happen. Jon Hardy isn't someone you mess with. He's the kind of man who sends fighter jets to take out gangsters. Do you think any mafia in the U.S. would dare challenge him? HD Security is basically his private army. He's also the British governor and a Japanese economic envoy. His power is overwhelming. McKinsey definitely picked the wrong target."
"Isn't Hardy worried about the repercussions?" another man asked, concerned.
"Repercussions? How could anything touch him? Even if the whole world knew he orchestrated this, there's no evidence. We were kidnapped by robbers; what does that have to do with Jon Hardy? He's a tycoon, a philanthropist."
"So, what happens to us now? Will we ever make it out?" the man worried.
"If we keep quiet and don't cause trouble, we might have a chance. But by the time we're released, McKinsey will probably be finished, and the investigation committee disbanded."
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Meanwhile, in Hollywood, a large-scale demonstration was underway. First-tier stars like Clark Gable, Cary Grant, Hedy Lamarr, Elizabeth Taylor, and Ingrid Bergman, along with directors, screenwriters, and other film industry staff, had taken to the streets. Thousands marched, holding plaques and banners, demanding the government stop McKinsey's actions, punish his crimes, and restore American freedom.
McKinsey's persecution didn't just target individuals—it threatened Hollywood as a whole. No one dared make movies anymore, and without films, there was no money. Hollywood had every reason to hate McKinsey.
"Put McKinsey on trial! Restore Hollywood's freedom!"
"Punish the political gangster McKinsey!"
"We want freedom! We want to breathe! We don't want white terror!"
The demonstrators chanted as they marched, with countless reporters capturing the scene. Photographers filmed the protest, documenting the massive turnout.
HD Security personnel, clad in black combat uniforms and armed with submachine guns, stood guard at street intersections, supported by police cars to ensure the demonstrators' safety. The police watched from the sidelines, smiling.
The parade lasted three full hours, ending with extensive coverage by ABC Radio and Television. Even NBC and CBS, also on McKinsey's investigation list, broadcast the event.
Challenging the entire American media, high-ranking government officials, businesses, and even the military was audacious. But McKinsey seemed determined to take on everyone.
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The next day, major newspapers detailed the Hollywood demonstration. Seeing the momentum, trade unions across the country decided to act. In the past, McKinsey's most intense persecution had targeted Hollywood's unions. Now, seizing the opportunity, these unions organized workers to strike and continue the protests.
A national strike erupted, even more intense than before. At its peak, hundreds of thousands of people took to the streets in cities across the United States. Their target was clear: McKinsey.
"Punish McKinsey!"
"Such congressmen should be removed from Capitol Hill!"
"Restore freedom of belief in the United States!"
"Send McKinsey to hell!"
The newspapers reported the overwhelming calls to punish McKinsey, echoing across the country like a rising wave.
On Capitol Hill, a parliamentary session was in full swing. But this time, it wasn't McKinsey's stage. Senator Nicholas stood up, launching a scathing attack on McKinsey—not targeting his ideology or the general labor investigation committee, but his character. Nicholas exposed McKinsey's tax evasion and his collusion with entrepreneurs to manipulate the stock market.
"McKinsey indulges in eating, drinking, prostitution, gambling, and smoking—a congressman completely devoid of morals. How can such a person represent the people?"
"McKinsey has evaded taxes for years. I have evidence proving that his tax evasion totals over $60,000. This isn't baseless slander; the evidence is solid."
"McKinsey colluded with financial company personnel to manipulate stock transactions, using his power to oppress certain companies, allowing these financial firms to short those companies and profit illegally. He pocketed $330,000 from this scheme. I have concrete evidence."
Nicholas held up the documents, denouncing McKinsey's corrupt behavior, expressing shame at sharing Capitol Hill with him.
Why was Nicholas so determined? Partly because of his boss, Hardy, who wanted him to go after McKinsey ruthlessly. But also because bringing down McKinsey would elevate Nicholas, making him a political star.
The applause on Capitol Hill was deafening.
Many congressmen had felt cornered by McKinsey's rogue tactics, fearing for their political futures. Now that someone was attacking McKinsey, they were eager to support and cheer, seizing the opportunity to crush him.
McKinsey sat in his seat, ready to stand and defend himself. He was a well-known debater, confident in his ability to speak. But before he could, the chairman of the parliament, Vice President Alben William Barkley, interrupted.
"Congressman McKinsey, I must interrupt you. You are not scheduled to speak today. Additionally, the Bureau of Investigation is outside. They will now take you in for questioning."
McKinsey was stunned. He hadn't expected everything to unravel so quickly. His opponents weren't giving him a chance to fight back. This wasn't a debate—it was a trial.
He was led away as his fellow congressmen looked on with thinly veiled glee.
Outside Capitol Hill, a large crowd of reporters had gathered, obviously tipped off in advance. There were even cameras from ABC, NBC, and CBS, all waiting to capture the moment.
McKinsey, flanked by three investigative officers in suits, was led out without handcuffs—a small concession to his former status.
"Click, click!"
The reporters snapped photos furiously. TV cameras zoomed in on McKinsey, nearly touching his face. Blood boiling, McKinsey shouted into the camera, "This is persecution! Naked persecution! It's a setup—a Labor Party conspiracy!"
"Mr. McKinsey, are your tax evasion and stock manipulation also setups?" a reporter asked loudly.
"Those... those are fabrications too! I'm innocent!" McKinsey insisted, still defiant.
That day, news of McKinsey's arrest by the Bureau of Investigation spread like wildfire. Many people couldn't help but cheer—this political thug had finally been caught. It was a moment of triumph.
McKinsey's case wasn't hard to crack. The Internal Revenue Service quickly uncovered his tax evasion, totaling tens of thousands of dollars over the past few years. This money had come from financial companies, which had profited by shorting companies McKinsey had targeted. The head of the financial company, once arrested, confessed to colluding with McKinsey, who had orchestrated the scheme. In return, McKinsey had received over $300,000 in cash, money he had hidden to avoid taxes.
Despite the mounting evidence, McKinsey refused to confess, calling in his lawyer to mount a defense. He was no stranger to the legal process, having been a judge himself.
A week later, McKinsey was released on bail after paying a large sum. He didn't want to stay in prison any longer than necessary.
However, as his car drove onto the highway, a large truck sped toward it, smashing into the vehicle. The impact left the car in pieces, a twisted wreck of metal.
The truck driver, after assessing the damage, walked silently to a nearby phone booth. He called the police, calmly reporting the accident and turning himself in.
As the old saying goes, "What goes around, comes around."
Though the car was shattered, McKinsey survived, but he was gravely injured. Rushed to the hospital, he was connected to numerous tubes.
He was still breathing, but his fate remained uncertain. Would he ever regain consciousness? Only time would tell.
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