Reborn South Africa as a police officer

Chapter 1777

During those days when Johnson lay in bed, he thought about how to change the situation in the Republic of Congo, how to get rid of the control of southern Africa, and how to be self-reliant, but he didn't think about why he was sick.

People in their 30s are pampered, and they usually pay attention to exercise and maintenance. They don't have those bad habits, and they don't have family inheritance, so why do they suddenly have a heart attack?
None of the chief physicians who graduated from Nyasaland University could explain why.

Johnson himself is on the top of a cliff, and he doesn't know it, but outsiders know it more or less.

Don't underestimate the action of Brad's office. In the past few years, those who want to secede from southern Africa in the Republic of Congo have followed suit. At the beginning of last year, a minister accidentally got into a car accident while walking on the street.

At the end of the year, a deputy minister died of a heart attack in his sleep.

Last year a congressman accidentally drowned while swimming.

Another congressman accidentally stepped on the air and broke his neck when he was going downstairs, and he was gone before he was sent to the hospital.

It looks like it's all accidents, but is it really all accidents?
Not necessarily, otherwise it would be too coincidental, and the chance of an accident is too high.

"The rand has become a tool for southern Africans to harvest wealth. They depreciate as much as they want, and print as much as they want. The resources we have worked so hard to mine have finally become a pile of colorful banknotes. Pretoria Why does a gram of gold cost one rand, and we export ten grams of gold to southern Africa for one rand?" Johnson knew what happened, but he didn't know why, and he could only ask questions, but not a solution.

"Ahem, it's not that serious. What we export is ore, not gold—" Randy Hopkins, Minister of Mines, is Lacey's cousin and Henry's uncle. He and Rock are also considered relatives. Made a few bends.

"Even if we refine the gold and sell it to southern Africa? This doesn't require too much advanced technology, we can do it." Johnson was full of grief and indignation. The interests of the Republic of Congo were betrayed by some people.

"Come on, it's easy for you to say, so why don't you do this?" Will Seth looked disgusted, bragging about who can't, who has the ability to make achievements.

"Because all mineral resources have been monopolized by certain people and certain interest groups, others have no chance even if they want to." Johnson also looked disgusted, and hated those who occupied the latrine the most.

"Okay gentlemen—" Benson Moore took the initiative to stop, and instead of looking at the angry Johnson, he asked Louis Ben next to him: "Is it possible for us to issue currency?"

That's right, don't just start with the financial system. You don't just open your mouth to issue currency, and someone has to recognize the banknotes when they are printed.

"It's difficult. We don't have enough margin. Even if we force it out, we may end up being the same as Mark. Maybe the cost is not enough." Louis Ben smiled wryly, and the British pound became an international currency. Spell out international status.

The influence of the rand and the U.S. dollar is growing, which is the trust gained in exchange for real money. At least in Pretoria, one rand can really buy one gram of gold.

If the Republic of Congo wants to forcibly issue currency, don't say whether it can be used for international trade, I am afraid that the Congolese themselves will not accept it.

"We can learn from southern Africa. Southern Africa started with gold mines. We also have gold mines in the Republic of Congo. Why can't they be used as bank deposits?" Johnson has ambitions, but he doesn't think about it. The Rock Gold Mine is Rock himself. It was discovered, and then gradually there was a cooperative, and then the Rand Bank. It is also very simple for the Republic of Congo to learn from southern Africa. First, there is a gold mine with reserves and grades comparable to the Locke gold mine.

Don't blow it up or criticize, all the gold mines in the world count as one, and the gold mines are of higher grade than the Locke gold mines, and the reserves of the Locke gold mines are not as high.

Bilock gold mine reserves are high, but the grade is not as high as Locke gold mine.

Even if these two conditions are fully satisfied, the mining cost has to be about the same as that of Locke Gold Mine.

This is not to say that the Rock Gold Mine uses African-American workers, but that the Rock Gold Mine is open-pit mining and the cost is very low.

Just when Johnson was impassioned, in the corner of the venue, Will Seth and Randy were whispering in the corner.

"I'm afraid this guy is crazy—" Wilses covered his mouth and whispered.

Randy pursed his lips and nodded, he didn't know if he was crazy or not, it was true that he was dying.

The meeting ended amidst controversy and no resolution was reached.

Johnson walked out of the gate of the Presidential Palace, surrounded by a group of secretarial assistants, quickly jumped into the car and drove away, followed by two cars in the distance.

Johnson's bodyguard sat in these two cars. Since he was discharged from the hospital, Johnson's security work has been upgraded to a higher level.

It's not a mercenary from the Umbrella Company. Johnson is not so stupid. He is looking for a security service company in Belgium, which is said to have a part of the Belgian official background.

Johnson's home is not far from the presidential palace, just two blocks away in a wealthy area.

The car was speeding all the way, and watching Johnson walk into the house, the others were relieved.

After Johnson was discharged from the hospital, out of concern for the safety of his family, he applied to the Boma Police Department for 24-hour protection.

The law and order situation in the wealthy area is already good. There are 24-hour police patrols. Johnson's bodyguards are still worried, leaving a car opposite Johnson's home, which is also on duty 24 hours a day.

After Johnson got home, he never went out again. In the evening, he took a walk in the garden downstairs, and said hello to the bodyguard in the car, and then returned to the room. The lights in the study remained on until dawn.

In the early morning, when Johnson's housekeeper opened the door of the study, he found that Johnson had hanged himself, and there was Johnson's suicide note on the desk next to him.

A large number of police officers rushed to the scene, Johnson's home was cordoned off, and the housekeeper and bodyguard were questioned separately.

"About ten o'clock in the evening, I also delivered supper to my husband, who has been working and hasn't moved a bite—" Johnson's maid was crying, and her spirit was greatly hurt.

"We watched Mr. return to the room. The lights in the room were always on. Nothing happened. Tom and I took turns on duty and didn't find any accidents." The bodyguard vowed.

"Mr. is not in good spirits these days. In fact, he has been in poor spirits since he was discharged from the hospital. He and his wife have been separated for a long time, and they often sleep in the study. I went to the study at twelve o'clock, and the husband is still there. Work—" The butler was in tears, his loyalty need not be doubted.

The police did not find any signs of fighting at the scene, and the door locks of Johnson's home were not damaged, and there were no signs of intrusion.

Based on all the evidence, the police judged that Johnson committed suicide.

The reason is that too much work pressure leads to insanity.

The government of the Republic of Congo held a state funeral for Johnson a week later.

Word reaches Southern Africa—

There is no need to let Rock know about this kind of thing. After reading the report, Sidney Milner directly threw the report into the shredder.

Rock is not in the mood to pay attention to the Republic of Congo. Since October last year, a large number of East African refugees have gathered near the border between the northernmost state of Victoria in Southern Africa and the British East African Protectorate. These refugees tried to enter Southern Africa to seek asylum, but were blocked by the Southern African Federation The government refused.

In order to prevent East Africans from entering Southern Africa through other means, the Federal Government of Southern Africa built a 1600-kilometer barbed wire fence in the border area and sent border patrols to patrol. The Victorian government also took action and sent National Guards to cooperate with the border patrols action.

Victoria State includes the entire Lake Victoria and the vast area around Lake Victoria. There are about 150 million southern Africans living in this area, most of whom are families of expeditionary officers and soldiers who participated in the World War, and some of them came to Southern Africa after the World War. New immigrants.

Most of these new immigrants are employees of State Farm.

"Three months ago, there were less than 1 people here, and now more than 3 people have gathered here. Now their mood is fairly stable, but once the situation gets out of control—" Captain Grant of the National Guard is a World War veteran. There are only more than 60 people under him, and the pressure to defend against the impact of more than 3 people can be imagined.

"What happened?" Major Marin was worried, and kept using binoculars to observe the refugee camp across the barbed wire.

The refugee camp is very large, extending from the barbed wire fence to the distant hillside. As far as the eye can see, there are dilapidated shacks and half-clothed refugees everywhere. There is a road at the foot of Marin, bounded by the barbed wire fence. The sides have been paved with asphalt, and there are road lines marked with white paint on the road. The opposite is a yellow dirt road. It is not yet the rainy season. When the rainy season comes, it will probably be another muddy pond.

"It is said that there is a poll tax, one pound per person, let alone a pound, these bitter Africans probably can't get a single shilling—" Grant pouted, and then began to complain about the Southern African federal government: "—here Many people used to live around Lake Victoria. At the end of the World War, the federal government paid for them to be sent to East Africa. These guys seem to have tasted the sweetness. As long as their lives in East Africa are not satisfactory, they will clamor to return to Lake Victoria. If I say don't give them a penny in the first place, taxpayers money can't be wasted like this—"

Grant has something to complain about, and he's also a taxpayer.

"Complain less and do more. This is not something we should consider." Marin didn't complain, but glanced at the trucks behind him, worried that the supplies he brought were not enough.

In the year after the end of the World War, the British government upgraded the East African protectorate to a colony under the direct administration of the British government.

Here I have to complain about the management level of the colonial government. In the current economic crisis, instead of paying money, they have to collect poll tax. No wonder these people want to flee East Africa.

(End of this chapter)