Assessment (1)

Wesley and Carlos went to buy fishing tackle and diving gear. This time, Carlos's pickup truck was going to be deployed. It seemed that his choice was not bad.

Two sets of fishing equipment and four sets of diving equipment were placed directly on the yacht. After that, they were ready to make a big purchase before they set off. However, the opening of the flower shop and Wesley's assessment made their plan for fishing at sea be put on hold.

"What's the name of the florist?" It was the opening day of the florist shop, and Wesley was going to take a look, so he got up early and prepared to leave with Carlos.

"Alice Flower Shop." Alice was Wesley's mother's name. It seemed that Carlos still missed her.

"Not bad, but the past is the past. Don't let go when you see a good woman," Wesley said with a smile.

"Don't worry, I won't. Now that I've hired a shop assistant, when are we going fishing?" The reason why the flower shop only opened three months later was that Carlos had been setting up his own flower stand. He hoped that he could set it up better, so he delayed three months.

"I'll go after my assessment. I don't know what their assessment is like." The two of them went out and drove their car to the front of the flower shop. A woman was cleaning.

Checkered shirt, cargo pants with straps, flat shoes, long brown hair tied back in a ponytail, gold-rimmed glasses. He was 1.65 meters tall and slim, but he was probably not young, in his thirties or above, but he looked refined.

"This is Alice Hepburn, an employee I hired. This is my son, Wesley Gibson," Carlos said. "Alice knows a lot about flowers and it suits the name of the shop."

Wesley smiled. "Welcome. I hope you can take care of Dad for me in the future. I'm not here a lot and I travel a lot."

"Hello, nice to meet you. I'll work hard." The woman was a little shy, but Wesley definitely had a chance with the two of them.

"Well, I should go. You guys go ahead." Wesley drove away in his sports car and went straight to the New York Division of SHIELD. Today is the day of the assessment. He really doesn't have confidence in the assessment.

Before the exam, Wesley received a phone call. "Mr. Wesley, your piece of land has been sold. Mr. XXX won the bid for $435 million. Following your instructions, he relied on the funds of the yacht and florist to avoid taxes. It is now all done. The last $350 million has been deposited in your bank account."

Wesley had to say that the taxes in the United States were too high. This deal required both parties to pay the real estate transaction tax. After that, he was tax-free. After throwing away the share of the auction house, he still had 350 million dollars left. Nearly 100 million was gone. His heart ached.

"Well done. I'll call you if there's anything." As a lawyer, Phillip couldn't do without Wesley. In America, you can never do without a lawyer, especially a rich man.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the exam begins now. The first test is a written test. The time is an hour. The agents have to race against time. I hope you can be faster." The examiner handed out the test directly and divided it into several pages. After Wesley read it, he said, "Apple, the answer."

He was done in less than ten minutes and handed in his paper. "Mr. Wesley, I have to say that you're really fast. Then go to the shooting range. There's an examiner waiting for you there."

Wesley did not hesitate. The examiner had said that agents needed to race against time, so he would do it as quickly as possible.

The shooting range was inside the building, and the soundproofing went without saying. Wesley went straight in, and their shooting instructor was waiting. "Mr. Wesley, you came fast. So please stand here and shoot the fixed target. In front of you are the parts of five handguns. Now you have to assemble one and shoot the target in front of you. Is that okay?"

"No problem." Wesley was very confident. He glanced at the parts. Apple had given him the full data of his five handguns. It was up to him to choose. Next to them were the cartridges of the five handguns. The amount of ammunition in them was different. Wesley chose the Beretta 92F, which he was most familiar with. The fifteen-round loading was the most here. The least was the M1911, which only had seven rounds.

"Then let's start." The instructor gave the order directly. Wesley did not hesitate at all. He began to choose two pieces with both hands and then began to assemble them. At the same time, his heart began to beat faster and everything around him slowed down.

After the pistol was assembled, Wesley loaded the clip and began to shoot directly. Every bullet passed through the bullseye. After "complete" removing the clip, he pulled the barrel sleeve again, indicating that the bullets were gone.

"What a surprising result. Very good. Now go downstairs to the main entrance. Your driving instructor is waiting for you there." Wesley didn't know that his score was 35 seconds, including picking parts, shooting, and safety movements. And he used a 15-round pistol.

Downstairs, the driving instructor saw Wesley. He hadn't expected anyone to be so quick, but he took out a key. "This car is in the garage. Find it, and there's what's next on it. Are you ready?"

"Yes." Wesley took the key and ran straight to the garage after the instructor gave the order. The key was not electronic lock, so it was impossible to find the car through the electronic lock alarm, but the mark on it was a Ford Mustang. He ran directly to the guard at the entrance of the parked car and began to look up the surveillance cameras. He found the location of the second floor directly and ran over. The key was inserted and turned. The door opened and Wesley saw the information on the co-driver. He opened it and looked at it.

He drove straight out of the parking lot and set off for his destination. The next location was a yacht club by the sea. He was very familiar with this place. It was the one he had joined.

It was not rush hour, so his speed was relatively fast, but he did not violate the traffic laws at all, nor did he speed. He kept pushing the speed limit.

"Mr. Wesley, you…" Ross saw Wesley and wanted to meet him, but Wesley made a hush gesture to him and the smart Ross moved away.

Wesley jumped on a small yacht, started it, and drove away. Ross also understood that Mr. Wesley was participating in some competition. It seemed that way.