"Nonsense! How is that possible! It’s not true at all." Allen immediately countered, "Which eye of yours saw her persecuting the employer? She is clearly a dedicated housekeeper explaining in great detail how to serve our employer well. We are only responsible for security, and nothing else is our concern."
"OK." Sieg nodded helplessly and didn’t take it to heart, after all, it really wasn’t their business.
Soon, the employer arrived at the airport in a black Cadillac. Getting out of the car, he spoke with the airport staff, and then was helped onto the plane by Lisa. The old man seemed to be in good spirits, his face rosy, even wearing a flamboyant red suit.
Not at all like a sickly person.
"Hello, Mr. Wenke, we are in charge of security for this trip, you can call me Sieg, and on behalf of our entire security team, I salute you." After the employer settled into the luxurious cabin of the plane, Sieg took the initiative to speak.
"I remember the last security job was done by another team, they did quite well, why the change? Is the price we offered not suitable?" The white-haired old Mr. Wenke turned his head and asked Lisa.
"They are executing another security task, maintaining order at a female celebrity’s concert, and don’t have the time to accompany you on your trip. Mr. Campri, too, is a professional security personnel, formerly a captain in the Marine Corps."
Placing her hand on the old man’s thigh, Lisa smiled and said, "For the next 24 hours of the journey, you can make any requests to them."
"Alright then." The white-haired old man gently stroked her hand, choosing to trust her, he gave Sieg a slight smile, "I hope the journey ahead goes smoothly."
"We will do our duty to satisfy you," Sieg replied with a nod, turned, and left the cabin, thoughtfully closing the door behind him.
Allen sat beside them, wiping and maintaining his handgun, when Bailey pointed out his unprofessional handling technique. The General Sect Leader simply handed the gun over to him for maintenance.
The capable should do more!
The time for departure arrived, Lisa disembarked from the plane, the cabin crew reminded everyone to fasten their seat belts and not to wander about, and the business jet started to power up for takeoff. After a brief sensation of gravity drop, the body adjusted to the change and was already smoothly flying in the air.
Looking out the window, Allen watched the white clouds drift by, the airport and Los Angeles gradually shrink below, the neon lights flickering; it was his first time travelling this far.
About half an hour later, the cabin crew issued a landing reminder, and from afar, the silhouette of the island and airport structures could be seen.
Allen took out his phone to connect to the plane’s network, searched the map, and found that they were only a few hundred kilometers from California, not really that far, and the private island was still within California’s territorial waters. From what he found online, Madison is a well-known antique collector, a multi-billionaire, who once spent 38.6 million US Dollars at an auction in Los Angeles to buy a fairly complete Stegosaurus fossil.
He also privately bred pumas, tigers, cheetahs, hyenas, and other animals as pets on his island, and owned villas in luxury estates in Beverly Hills and other places; an utterly extravagant display of wealth.
The plane landed smoothly on the private island’s airport, where someone was already waiting to receive them. Sieg gestured for the people to disembark, and those in charge of island security came over to coordinate tasks with them.
Allen took out the agenda and glanced at it.
Receiving and escorting guests, 2 hours of accompanying them to view the collection of antiques and animals, 2 hours of banquet security guard duty, with the rest of the time being free to enjoy unrestricted areas. The schedule was reasonable and the tasks relatively easy.
Soon, a man with gold-rimmed glasses approached warmly, "Is Mr. Wenke here?"
Mr. Wenke got off the plane, greeted warmly, and laughed, "Long time no see."