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Chapter 166: Let's Work Together (1)
🕑 Added 2025-01-17 16:41:37 +0000 UTCWhen she heard Dix's name, Peggy Carter suddenly had a bad feeling.
Although she was British, she had been in New York for a year, working in Intelligence, so she knew quite a bit about the situation in the city.
At that time, there were three things to avoid in New York, even for agents like her.
The first thing to avoid were the many wealthy people she knew, like Josh Kahn and Howard Stark. Although Howard's situation was a bit bad right now, it was due to special reasons, and under normal circumstances, few people would want to mess with him.
The second thing to avoid was the New York Police Department, but that only applied to people outside the first category. In a way, the New York Police Department was like the private army of the rich.
Because of this and the American judicial system, the New York Police Department, the largest local police force in the United States, was a very special group that was difficult for outsiders to interfere with, and they were very united.
Most of the time, intelligence agencies like theirs, which were somewhat shady, had to avoid the police. If they got caught, it would be a big problem.
The third thing to avoid was the mafia, whether it was the Italian mafia or the Irish mafia.
These "parasites" who hid in the dark side of New York society were avoided by all social classes in the city.
The police, the rich, and these groups often worked together. Even the FBI had no way of dealing with them.
There were also countless lower-level gangs that, along with the Mafia, formed a vast criminal network.
Peggy Carter remembered that the leader of the largest Irish mob in New York was named Dix.
Her luck couldn't be that bad, could it?
"Hehe, it seems this lady has heard of my name. Why don't you come up for a drink?" Just as Peggy Carter hesitated, Dix seemed to read her mind and invited her.
The Dix before her was none other than the old partner of Lynden Schneider, who, with Josh's support and the help of Blackwater Gang, had wiped out most of the Jewish gangs in America, allowing the Irish Mafia to regain control and become the top criminal force in the U.S. Dix had gone from small-time thug to powerful figure in the underworld.
The reason he was at the nightclub was simple—it was arranged by Josh.
"Mr. Dix, I could..." Peggy Carter was about to say no. Her goal was to meet a broker named Raymond, not this Irish mob boss. If she angered him, there could be serious consequences.
"Oh, lady, your refusal puts me in a difficult position!" Dix shrugged, and some of his bodyguards closed in around Carter, obviously not allowing her to refuse.
"All right, I'm a little thirsty, so I'll bother you, Mr. Dix!" Seeing the situation, Carter smiled and agreed.
With her sharp eyes she noticed that the bodyguards were no petty thugs; they had clear military training, probably veterans. Knowing that she was outnumbered, she wisely decided to comply.
Once she was alone with Dix, she could figure out how to escape.
But when Carter entered the spacious and luxurious office with Dix, she saw a bodyguard sitting near the door, which made her want to curse.
Was Dix so paranoid that he couldn't even do his business without his bodyguard watching?
"All right, lady, no need to be so nervous. Let's get down to business. Police? FBI? Or some other special agency?" While Carter cursed inwardly, Dix poured her a glass of wine and asked directly.
"Mr. Dix, you misunderstand. I just want to make a deal with the original owner of this place, Mr. Raymond... nothing else!" Peggy Carter tried to remain calm.
"Oh... I see. Then go talk to him..." Dix nodded slightly and then called to the bodyguard at the door, "Frank!"
The guard named Frank at the door smiled slightly and walked over to a large cabinet in the office and opened it.
Peggy Carter's eyes narrowed as she saw what was inside—two bloodied, mangled corpses.
One was the broker she was looking for, Raymond. The other, a thin white man, was someone she had no information on.
Now Carter understood her bad luck. She had stumbled into a gang conflict, and the person she was looking for was already dead.
"See, lady? There he is... Do you have anything to say?" Dix teased, pointing to Raymond's body.
"Well, in that case, Mr. Dix, let's skip the formalities. I came here for a chemical formula. If that thing was originally with him, then it must be in your hands now. Maybe we can make a deal?" Carter forced herself to remain calm and spoke.
"Ah, I like straight talk. I knew you would want that," Dix replied with a grin and sat down in the office chair. He opened a drawer and pulled out a sphere.
When Peggy Carter saw the bullet, her eyes widened. "Mr. Dix, are you saying that the formula has been weaponized and it's this thing?"
"That's right, it is," Dix said, casually tossing the sphere toward her.
Remembering Howard Stark's warnings about how dangerous such things could be, Carter suppressed the urge to flee and quickly caught it, cautiously holding it in her hands.
"Hahaha, no need to be so nervous, lady. I know how dangerous that thing is. In fact, we've already taken care of it—it's safe now and won't explode!" Dix laughed heartily at Carter's tense reaction.
Hearing this, Carter felt an intense urge to pull out her gun and shoot the smug Irishman. Couldn't you have said it was safe before?
"So, Mr. Dix, you seem to know a lot about this thing?" Carter asked, regaining her composure and catching a key detail in his words.
"Of course, lady. Don't forget who I am! We may do a lot of shady things, but our main goal is to make money. Dangerous things like this might sell for a lot of money, but it would cause even bigger problems for our other businesses. These fools dared to bring something like this into our territory—they deserve to die!" Dix snorted.
As Dix explained, while the Mafia often engaged in illegal activities, they were also some of the greatest promoters of social stability.
After all, only in a stable society could their clients earn money and spend it on their businesses, creating a steady stream of income for them. Only desperate small-time crooks sought quick, risky profits.
