Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 312 Everything is determined by fate, nothing can be controlled by humans!!
How fast do American journalists run?

Even Bolt can't catch up with the hot bite.

When Richard James Kerr was carried out, the entrance of the building was crowded with people, even reporters who wanted to get first-hand information.

Climb up the pipe.

"Mr. Clark, is the deceased the CIA director Richard?" a blonde girl asked the FBI boss who came out, and she even pointed the microphone at him.

The woman was still wearing clothes that showed her "career ambition". Clark glanced at her and the female reporter looked at him meaningfully. The two of them exchanged glances.

Good guy…

The dog is in heat!

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you that." Clark's eyes flashed and his words were sharp, signaling the staff behind him to carry the body onto the funeral home's car.

These reporters don't care about you. They just believe that it is the CIA boss and they all go up to him. Some even want to pull the bed sheet.

A young FBI agent tried to stop them but was stopped by the senior officer next to him, who winked at him.

The boss is standing by with his hands folded, why are we rushing forward?
This is embarrassing for the CIA!

When the sheets were pulled back, Richard James Kerr's "green" face suddenly appeared in front of everyone.

The sound of shutter clicks came one after another.

The news spread across the world in an instant.

Grand Victor Hotel Tijuana.

The building has 76 floors and is one of the tallest buildings in the north.

This place used to be owned by the Benjamin brothers of the Tijuana drug cartel, but has now been confiscated and used to entertain foreign guests.

The 73rd floor is nominally the top floor. The three floors above it are not open to the public and are mainly used by senior officials of the Governor's Office.

Donald Rumsfeld, who was living in a 100-square-meter suite, frowned as the TV was broadcasting the cause of death of Richard James Kerr.

"According to insiders, the CIA director died from his mistress's body. The drugs she took stimulated the blood vessels in her brain, causing them to rupture..."

The TV station's spokesperson was trying hard to hold back his smile, and the corners of his mouth were harder to suppress than an AK47.

Even our own people can’t stand it.

The Director of the CIA is a high-ranking American official. Isn't your death a bit too miserable?

Donald Rumsfeld, who always prided himself on his reputation, also felt embarrassed at this time. He kicked the coffee table with dissatisfaction and said to the deputy head of the group, Nicholas Truss, who was also the US strategic remote leader sitting next to him, "It's okay to put a dog in the CIA position, but it's not a real dog. Bush's glasses are completely useless except for looking at money."

Seeing him criticizing his own leader, Nicholas Trans could only laugh.

The old defense minister was known for his bad temper and didn't like being contradicted.

Many people don’t understand why Donald Rumsfeld can be so “tyrannical”. Let me tell you one of his achievements. He believes that “air force” will be the mainstream of the future. No matter how powerful self-propelled artillery is, can it be as powerful as aerial bombing?

This also laid the foundation for the US military's war model in the following decades.

And he is so capable that there is no opposition to him in the Pentagon.

There are rumors now that the military prefers Donald Rumsfeld to be Secretary of Defense.

The next few ones are just trash!
"Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing? Guard, guard..."

At this moment, roars and dissatisfied scoldings were suddenly heard from outside the door, followed by curses.

"Let's go out and see what's going on." The old defense minister frowned, and the accompanying official sitting on the other side walked out.

I saw two American officials being pinned to the ground by a burly guard, and a waiter was standing next to them, pointing at him and saying something in his mouth.

The Americans in other rooms also came out and looked at each other in confusion.

"Hey, what are you doing? What are you Mexicans doing? Let go!" someone pointed and said dissatisfiedly.

Who knew that the guard would pull out his gun and yell, "Don't move!"

The waiter angrily spread out the poster in his hand, "You Americans have no manners. You tore off the portrait of our general!"

Americans, you look at me and I look at you.

It's not a serious matter.

They even cursed the president in public, so what?
"According to the laws of northern Mexico, they are suspected of blasphemy against the leader!"

Finally, the American who was being held down started to panic, "Help! Help! Help!"

Donald Rumsfeld, who was sitting in the room, also came out with a gloomy expression.

I've said it so many times, don't try to cause trouble in Mexico using the American way of thinking.

Isn't this looking for trouble?

"They are diplomats, they have foreign immunity, and ... they are members of the negotiation team. You are undermining the relationship between the two countries."

"The best treatment for arrogant people like you is 7.62." The waiter snorted twice, not at all scared.

"Call Victor and tell him that we agree to his request. We also hope that he can forgive those idiots!" The old defense minister said gritting his teeth, walked back to the room and closed the door heavily.

Deputy Head Nicholas Trans narrowed his eyes. To be honest, he was also a little shocked. When did Mexico become so feudal?

In the Governor's Mansion.

Victor was still a little confused when he received the call, but he smiled and said, "Please rest assured, Mr. Donald, as long as they are willing, I will not suppress them. I will ask someone to collect the bodies of the American soldiers. As long as the money and the people are in the account, you can take them away at any time."

"Take it away first? Hahahaha, Mr. Nicholas, you Americans are notoriously shameless. Don't try to get something for nothing with me. Otherwise, I will cut the body into pieces and sell it to farmers in Texas to feed their pigs."

lie!
Victor hung up the phone heavily after saying this, and looked at the secretary, Krista Schroeder, beside him, and jokingly said, "A country that produced liars and bastards actually wants me to believe in their morals. Do they have these things?"

Krista Schroeder smiled, but her smile was a little stiff.

"Is there something on your mind?" Victor suddenly asked, picked up a Camel cigarette on the table, leaned his elbows on the table, lit it up in a casual manner and asked.

Then he threw the lighter on the table and looked at her, "Don't hide it from me."

He had long noticed that the other party was in a bad mood, but they were at war, who cared about a woman's emotions?

There are always some days like this.

But now the haze that weighed on his shoulders had disappeared, and Victor was in the mood to ask a few more questions.

After all, he is someone close to me.

Ms. Krista Schroeder looked at Victor with a complicated expression and opened her mouth, "I'm pregnant."

???????

Victor's hand froze, and he turned his head, his eyes a little confused, and also... a little dull.

His first action was to put the cigarette into the ashtray and put it out.

Her facial expression was very happy, but also a little solemn. She frowned, pulled the corners of her mouth, and looked at him, "When did it happen?"

Krista Schroeder's heart sank when she saw his expression. "Two months."

Victor took a deep breath and didn't ask the other party whether she wanted to have a baby.

This question is so stupid, which woman doesn't want to be a mother?

"In the future, you can be the office director. Leave the small tasks of delivering documents to others. If you don't want to work, then don't work. I will give you 20 US dollars a month." "No, I can work. I can still do it."

"I can give you everything you want, but you have to know that I can't give you the identity you want, and don't let your imagination run wild. I have a good relationship with Belsaria."

Even if there is a conflict with the United States, it is not a conflict with the Rumsfeld family behind it.

Moreover, after seeing the strength of the Mexican northern army, old man Donald may still be thinking about it in his mind.

Krista Schroeder was silent for a moment. She was very unwilling in her heart. She was Victor's woman, and the child she gave birth to should receive the best resources!

Like a member of the British royal family!

Cultivated since childhood.

But she was also a smart person, and she knew that if she disagreed or even made some excessive demands.

Victor would make her disappear.

Strictly disappeared.

"I...I understand."

Victor nodded and held the phone. "Please ask Casare to come see me."

About three or four minutes later, Casare, sweating and panting, ran over hurriedly and knocked on the door and came in.

"Why are you running so fast?"

"Boss, if you call me, I will come even if I am far away."

Victor nodded and pointed to the secretary next to him, "I want you to take care of Krista Schroeder. She's pregnant."

Casare's brain froze and he almost blurted out congratulations, but as he had some political acumen, he immediately realized something was wrong.

The eldest woman is pregnant, why should I take care of her? This... is unreasonable.

It has to be said that some people are just suited to this job. He glanced at Victor's expression and immediately figured it out. He patted his chest and said, "Boss, leave it to me. I will raise her child as my own."

"Only the three of us know about this..."

"Boss, Christa Schroeder will live with me from now on. If necessary, she can "marry" me and the child will be mine."

Victor nodded in satisfaction.

"What do you think?" He looked at Krista Schroeder.

The latter was a little sad.

"Go down and rest. Let me talk to Casare."

Krista Schroeder wiped her tears and pretended to be strong before leaving.

"I know exactly what this woman is thinking. I can't let her fantasize. Otherwise, the inner house will be unstable. The child she gives birth to may be my first child, but it won't be possible for her to inherit everything from me."

Casare nodded.

The story of the prince and the ugly duckling is just a story, just like why do literati and poets like to write about the supernatural and have affairs with female ghosts?
What doesn't exist is fresh.

Power, wealth and status are transmitted through blood after all.

If Victor's future wife is Bertha, it will bring many political results. The Northern Army needs this "backer"!
"That was my first child," Casare said with a smile.

"Thank you."

"Boss, why are you saying such polite words? You gave me everything I have. Even if you want me to die now, I won't hesitate!"

"There's no need for us brothers to say these things. Just do your job well. Kwaukmote is an outsider after all."

Casare was stunned, and his mind went blank for a moment.

This seems to be saying: The prince is ill, you should work harder.

When he came out of the office, the only question in his mind was: Can I be president?

Can I?

But soon his eyes cleared.

Just follow the boss and you will succeed!!

He looked at his watch, went downstairs, got in the car, and drove towards the mental hospital not far away.

There are guards at the door, armed with guns!

When he saw Casare, he saluted and let him go.

In a garden of the mental hospital, he saw his mother, who was being pushed by a nurse. Her long hair had been shaved short. She was sitting in a wheelchair, holding a teddy bear in her arms. Her eyes were dull and she had lost a lot of weight.

Camilla Sodhi was too noisy in the hospital and often talked nonsense.

For example, Victor was helped up there by my son!
My son is the real Governor.

Casare had someone increase the dosage of the drug, turning his mother into a real mental patient.

He walked over and waved to the nurse, who nodded and left.

"Mom, I'm here to see you."

The other party did not respond. Casare gently squeezed her shoulders and chatted with her as usual, "Mom, have you eaten?"

"meal?"

Camilla Sodi reacted when she heard this, but it was very slow. "Food, yes, I want food. My Casare hasn't eaten yet."

She touched the bear in her arms and said, "Don't be afraid, Kasaray. Mom is here. I will cook for you and make sure you have enough to eat."

"Boss, can you give me some money? I...my child has no food to eat, and I want to buy him a piece of bread. Just give me 10 pesos. Thank you, boss, thank you, boss." Camila Sodi began to talk nonsense and kept nodding her head, as if she was thanking someone.

"Eat, hey, Casare, eat more, grow taller, and you'll have a bright future. Don't drink like your father, and don't sell drugs. Study hard. Eat, mom has eaten before. She ate at... at the factory. It was a good meal with lots of fish and meat."

Casare stood behind Camilla Sodi, listening to her murmurs, raised his head, and tears suddenly filled his eyes.

He remembered that when he was a child, he caught a cold and had a fever of 38°. His mother carried him on her back in the heavy rain to beg others for help. She knelt in front of a drug dealer, hoping that he could save her. The dealer saw that his mother was very strong and gave her $10.

It was this $10 that saved my life.

"Casare, don't be afraid, Mom is here, Mom is here, Mom is not hungry, Mom is not hungry..."

Casare burst into tears, his shoulders shaking silently. He hugged Camilla Sodi from behind, and put his face close to hers. "Mom, don't blame me, don't blame Casare. You made such a big fuss. If your son wasn't so cruel, you would be dead!"

"Casare...my son." Camilla Sodi had empty eyes and just kept muttering these two sentences.

Don't think that the boss is very nice to you.

But if he doesn't do it himself, Victor will let others help him decently!

The sky is still blue.

嗏

Everything is determined by fate, and we have no control over it! !
……

(End of this chapter)