Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
Wobbly guy couldn't explain anything. He was gasping for air too badly and also clutching at his right ankle. Chance couldn't make out any kind of weapon on the man, no gun, no knife, except for his big belt no object fit to strangulate him. And he definitely needed the belt to keep his pants in place…
"Well, unless you were planning to kill me by sitting on my chest it's safe to say you're not a hired gun", Chance said, helping him to his feet again. "And for your sake I hope you're not a PI with the job to follow people around unobtrusively. In that case I would seriously consider a change of occupation."
Still completely exhausted from the whole sprinting and struggling thing, the man fell into a fit of coughing.
Chance rubbed his forehead and sighed. "I'll call a cab and we talk. Agreed?"
More coughing and somewhere in between a nod.
Chance had to help wobbly guy to sit down on the stairs to the backdoor of a pawnshop. By the time the cab arrived, his breathing rate was still above normal, but at least he didn't sound like he was in need of iron lung treatment in the near future any more. Chance decided not to question him during the ride. The man's brain was probably still struggling with undersupply of oxygen. Instead he explained what he, the team and the Marshall Pucci Foundation were all about. Wobbly guy at least managed to say his name: Pete.
Pete didn't struggle when Chance led him to the hotel suite Ilsa had rented. Chance briefly explained to the others what had happened, then poured their guest/captive a stiff drink. "Now, buddy, one more time. What were you doing in that alley?"
"Professor Alexiou was my mentor and friend. We built up the IOFGTE together. He had contacted me from the airport in Athens, had told me he had found people willing to give him a ride. I was worried; IOFGTE and the professor have received lots of threats lately, especially with the upcoming speech Nikos wanted to deliver tonight. See, he was always willing to trust people and only thought the best of them until they actively lashed out at him…"
For a moment Pete got lost in the realization that he had just lost a true friend. Chance poured him another drink.
"You were with Nikos when he died", he then continued, voice struck with grief. "It seemed suspicious to me that you left before the police arrived, that you chose to walk away instead of using public transport or a car. I thought figuring out what you were up to was the only thing left I could do for my friend…"
Ames put a hand on his shoulder and the man started to cry openly. Chance wished he had tackled him a little less brutally back in the alley.
"What is IOFGTE?", Ilsa asked.
Pete was still sobbing. Sighing, Winston typed the acronym into his smartphone.
"International Organization for Global Tax Equality?", he asked a few seconds later.
Pete nodded and blew his nose.
"We are an international organization that supports the introduction of a more just, more appropriate, more transparent tax system – worldwide."
"Nice idea, but maybe you should come up with a snappier title…" Winston remarked.
The man ignored Winston's comment and blew his nose once more. "See, the whole financial crisis thing that's shaking up Europe – whole states threatening to go bankrupt… Greece, Cyprus, Ireland, Portugal, Spain, Italy… civil war like street battles in which completely normal citizens attack representatives and institutions of the system… at the root of all that is a hair raising inequality when it comes to the question who carries the structures of society… schools, infrastructure, medical care… those who have least carry the most."
It was almost like listening to Professor Alexiou again. His mentor had definitely influenced him deeply. Ames wished she had met Alexiou earlier. Maybe she would be able to talk like that, too, then. When she closed her eyes for a moment, the image of the assassinated professor dead on the ground returned.
Goddamn it… She knew there was nothing they could have done. But it still felt like they had failed him.
"This surely wasn't the first time the professor was going to deliver a speech. Why the increased threat level now?", Chance asked. "What's so special about that speech?"
"IOFGTE was past just demanding a better tax system. Nikos had made a real job of it and developed a globally applicable method, not only to devise appropriate tax rates for everyone, but also collect the money properly."
"Now that sounds like a motive if I ever heard of one", Ilsa mumbled.
Raised eyebrows all around.
"I am paying my taxes properly! I'm just speaking from experience with others…"
Chance patted her back in an exaggerated patronizing gesture, nodding and smiling at her. "Of course you do."
"The latest threats were especially fierce. So fierce that we hired someone to trace them back. Nothing tangible came out of it. All we found out was that they came from the world's biggest tax oasis", Pete continued.
"Well then we should start looking for the threat there, shouldn't we?" Suddenly Ames' perked up visibly. "Good thing I brought my bikini."
Pete gave Ames a puzzled look. "A bikini for Delaware?"
And so Ames learned that the world's biggest tax oasis was not the Cayman Islands and not Switzerland, no, it was Delaware. An average of 130000 - yes, one hundred and thirty thousand -companies were launched there each year. Most of them only consisted of a company name, a bank account and a street address. The official legal form of this construct was "limited liability company". They could be set up anonymously and did not have to show any business activity. It was completely legal that CEO, board of directors and shareholder were one and the same person. The ideal instrument for foreigners to hide unreported or even illegal income from their home countries…
Very interesting since the US had no qualms putting other tax oases under pressure, Switzerland for example, to give away the names of American tax evaders.
Ames also learned something about a very special address in Wilmington.
1209 North Orange Street.