Wall Street bigwigs!

Morris and Doug immediately took a team of seven on a Delta Air Lines short-haul flight to Washington National Airport (before it was renamed Reagan National Airport in 1998).

Maurice had already spoken with Mary by phone before coming.

After exiting the terminal and going up to the parking lot, two Cadillacs headed straight for the NASD Washington office.

Doug was carrying a thick sack of compliance application materials and interpretations of the provisions, while another assistant was carrying a suitcase full of offshore documents.

The NASD Washington office may sound like a small office, but in reality, the NASD's Washington office building is in no way inferior to the headquarters building.

A row of Roman columns stands on the gray marble steps, and the building's facade is carved with intricate patterns.

The office building looks even more magnificent and exquisite than Russell Building (one of the parliamentary buildings where members of both houses of Congress have their offices).

Old George, the doorman, wrapped his dark blue cashmere coat around his arm on the steps. A gold badge was pinned to his chest; it was a commemorative badge for employees who joined before 1966.

Standing beside old George was a young man not yet 30. Cole bent down to light old George's cigarette, and behind them, the glass revolving door turned silently.

Two Cadillacs quietly pulled up at the foot of the NASD office building. Old George exhaled a puff of smoke as he looked at the convoy and raised an eyebrow.

A hint of dissatisfaction flashed in his eyes because the car wasn't parked in the marked spot.

At this moment, Cole quietly said, "The person I'm waiting for has arrived. If you want to scold someone, go scold the driver later. The guest is here to see Team Leader Mary."

Old George glared at Cole with annoyance and then fell silent.

Morris was wrapped tightly in his woolen overcoat, his brows furrowed as he looked at the building. He had been to this place countless times, and every time he came, it felt like he had been raped.

In Washington, D.C., any department with power has always viewed people with an arrogant and condescending attitude, regardless of where you come from, your status, or how much money you have.

Morris was the first to push open the door and get out of the car. He straightened the hem of his coat and was about to raise his hand to call his assistant behind him when he saw Cole and old George standing on the steps.

Mary had told them in advance on the phone that her assistant would be waiting for them at the front door.

Cole waved to Morris, who muttered a curse under his breath, but he didn't dare to slow down, taking three steps at a time to quickly climb the long steps.

"Hello, are you Mr. Cole?"

Morris reached out first, his tone typical of a lawyer.

Cole shook hands with Morris with a reserved air, while Doug, the assistant, didn't even have the right to extend his hand.

Doug casually lowered his hand, which was halfway raised, and wiped it on the hem of his clothes.

"Ms. Mary..."

Before Maurice could finish speaking, Cole waved his hand and looked at old George.

"Thanks, old George. I'll treat you to drinks after get off work."

Old George nodded gently to Cole, pushed open the door, and then glanced coldly at Maurice and his team without saying a word.

Clearly, on NASD's turf, Mary's reputation was more effective than the prestigious name of SATA LLP.

As they stepped through the revolving doors, a wave of heat hit them in the lobby, causing Maurice and his companions, who had just experienced the cold, to shiver.

"I'll take you to the lounge first; there's coffee and snacks prepared there. My boss is in a meeting." Cole strode ahead towards the stairs.

"The materials we brought?" Morris replied.

"No need to show it to me. I don't even know what kind of company this Ruifeng is. My boss actually abandoned NASD, which is doing just fine, and insisted on going there. This morning, my boss submitted his resignation to the committee."

It was easy to hear Cole's dissatisfaction with Sharp Edge in his tone.

Cole led Morris's team to the lounge and left without responding.

Morris and his entourage spent over an hour in the lounge, drinking several cups of coffee.

The place was strictly hierarchical, and whoever passed through it always hurried along, sparing of words, and couldn't get any information. This made Maurice very uncomfortable.

Half an hour later, Cole reappeared at the door of the lounge.

"Would you like me to bring you some coffee and snacks?"

Doug cursed under his breath.

[If you really cared, you wouldn't have left us here for two hours, you damn bureaucrat.]

Morris remained expressionless: "No need, the coffee and snacks here are quite good, but we have more important things to do now."

Kurt raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly as he looked at Morris, knowing he was talking nonsense. Were the coffee and snacks in the lounge for eating?

"Come with me, the boss just got back," Cole said casually, waving his hand.

In the office at the end of the corridor, Mary Shapiro looked exhausted with a furrowed brow. Her resignation letter had aroused much suspicion as soon as it was submitted.

The chairman personally called her to ask what had happened, and said that if she was unhappy with her job, he could help her transfer to another place as the office director.

Mary's qualifications would be enough to be a director even in big cities like New York or California, but in Washington, D.C., a place comparable to headquarters, there are simply too many qualified people.

"Knock knock knock..."

"Come in!" came Mary Shapiro's cool voice from inside the house.

Cole opened the door and gestured for Maurice to come in.

Doug wanted to go in too, but Cole expressionlessly reached out and stopped him at the door.

Seeing this, Morris had no choice but to say, "Give me everything, you all wait a bit."

Doug and his assistant had no choice but to hand over all their belongings to Maurice to take with them.

In the office, Mary Shapiro saw Morris walk in and stood up, gesturing for Cole to bring in two cups of coffee.

"Hello Ms. Mary, I am Morris from SCDA Law Offices."

Mary Shapiro shook hands with him and pointed to the sofa area next to him.

"Please have a seat. I've already spoken with Mr. Green."

The two sat on a single sofa, and Maurice took out the materials and handed them to Mary Shapiro before speaking.

"As requested by Mr. Green, we submitted the application materials for R&F Securities' NASD membership."

Furthermore, the supplementary client qualification documents for the 3(c)(7) exemption and the 127-page thorough verification report of the offshore trust have all been reviewed without any omissions.

Mary Shapiro glanced at the documents in Maurice's hand, a faint smile playing on her lips.

"Mr. Morris, NASD's membership review process has never been about who has the thickest documents."

After the 1987 stock market crash, the audit team didn't even have the patience to flip through thick files.

Morris's lips twitched, and he paused for two or three seconds.

Looking at Mary, and then down at the 127-page report that his team had prepared over half a month, he suddenly felt that he had overdone it.

He instinctively gripped the document tighter, his tone losing some of its reserve.

"But, Ms. Mary, thorough verification of offshore trusts is crucial, in case the audit team asks questions..."

Mary Shapiro interrupted him with a confident tone.

"They won't ask any questions. I spent five years at NASD and I know the rules here better than you do."

Rules are rigid, but people are flexible.

Compliance isn't something done for the audit team; it's something done for those who understand the rules.

Morris sighed, "Alright!"

It's your home turf, you're in charge.