Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 313 It’s a good thing to have a skill
11 Month 17 Day!
The United States and Mexico signed the Tijuana Treaty in Tijuana in front of reporters from all over the world.

Snap!
The sound of camera shutters continued to ring out, and Donald Rumsfeld and Victor's hands were tightly clasped together.

But suddenly, Victor felt the force on his hand become heavier. He glanced at him and saw the dissatisfaction in the other person's eyes.

Immortal!

A sixty-year-old woman, still pretending to be a cool mom?

Do you think I’m a vegetarian?
No, every monk who comes has to say in front of me that Bodhisattva is powerless.

Victor pinched it back hard, and Donald Rumsfeld's face became visibly stiff.

But I still had to smile at the camera.

The press spokesperson will naturally be responsible for what happens next. There is no need for the two big guys to be on stage. When they came down from the stage, Donald suddenly said, "Young people, sometimes it's not good to be too arrogant."

"If you're not arrogant, can you still be called a young man?" Victor smiled and glanced at him. "Will you wait until you're old and lying on the hospital bed before being arrogant?"

He paused, "Now is the era of the young people. What qualifications do losers have to teach others?"

These words made the old defense minister, who prided himself on his good self-cultivation, a little angry. Looking at Victor's face, he almost couldn't help but want to hit him.

He took a deep breath, "Where are my two arrested colleagues?"

"They are suspected of insulting the leader and will face judicial proceedings. In most cases, they will be sent to dig coal," said Casare, who was standing nearby, with a serious face.

“He’s an American.”

"He's a criminal!"

The two of them stared at each other, and finally Victor waved his hand, "Forget it, let's take a step back. 2000 million US dollars, and you can take the two of them."

Donald Rumsfeld's brows relaxed when he heard the first half of the sentence, but the second half almost made him lose control.

"2000 million US dollars, why don't you rob it?" an accompanying official said angrily.

"Or else? What do you think?" Casare asked, holding up a finger. "But robbery is not risky, prostitution is. If you guys hand it over quickly, you can still make it to Chief Richard's funeral."

The Northern Army soldiers all had hints of sneer on their faces as they surrounded Victor and left.

"It's shameless, really shameless, Mr. Donald. Victor has no respect for the United States at all!"

Donald Rumsfeld glanced at him, but seemed to calm down instead. He squinted at Victor's figure and said, "Verbal protests are useless. Americans never like to use their mouths..."

"Do you think the death of CIA Director Richard might be related to him?" Deputy Group Leader Nicholas suddenly asked in a low voice.

"The CIA launched no less than 10 subversion operations against Victor in Mexico, but all failed, and..."

The deputy head of the delegation looked around, and the other accompanying officials knew that the big guys wanted to talk, so they quickly stood around and expanded the circle.

"The beheading attempt failed, so the CIA thought someone had leaked internal intelligence. Not long after Richard started to suspect this, he died. There is a lot of coincidence here, and I don't believe in coincidences."

"You mean, silence him?!" Donald Rumsfeld asked with a frown.

"I smell a conspiracy. Three directors were replaced in one year, and two died. The CIA's decades of reputation have been lost at this moment."

After hearing this, the old defense minister also felt that there was something wrong, "I will tell George H.W. Bush that this matter must be taken seriously!"

It's tricky...

White House.

"You mean, he died of sudden cardiac death!" George H. W. Bush asked in a deep voice, holding the report and looking at FBI Director Floyd I. Clark in front of him.

You can see the paleness on the finger joints due to the force.

"That's what the medical examiner said."

Clark sat in the chair and paused, "Maybe, the mistress's XXX is really poisonous."

When George H. W. Bush heard this, he almost picked up the pen holder next to him and threw it at him.

Is it okay to say such obscene words in such a "sacred" office space?
But it doesn’t matter, the White House is actually dirty.

"Are you kidding me? Clark, I don't like this kind of joke. You should know how embarrassed the US government is right now. I'm being hung on the pillar of shame in history!"

Intelligence agencies around the world are mocking the CIA.

It's so damn embarrassing.

It would be fine if he died in an assassination attempt by some anti-American people, but you died in a woman's belly.

Oh My God.

Floyd I. Clark had a nonchalant expression on his face. The FBI did not make any fuss and was already living up to its identity as an "American."

However, it is said that many foreigners cried bitterly.

CIA's breeding technology is really good.

The FBI expressed envy.

"Have you found your mistress?"

Floyd I. Clark shook his head and frowned. "I mobilized the intelligence network and grassroots police, but I couldn't find it."

"How can a living person fly?" Old Bush said loudly, slamming the table.

At this moment, there was a knock on the door. The President paused and sat down, "Come in."

His executive secretary, National Security Advisor Bahash Johnson, walked in with a serious expression, "Sir, Richard's mistress has been found."

"Where are the people?" Clark asked hurriedly from the side.

"In Austin, Texas, but he was already dead. When he died, he was sealed in an oil barrel and thrown into the river. He was finally found by an old lady who was collecting rubbish."

Bahash Johnson said in a deep voice.

Bush Sr., Clark and others were stunned.

The atmosphere is eerie.

"A woman traveled thousands of kilometers to Texas in one day. It's interesting. It's really interesting. She couldn't have gone to Austin and committed suicide by hiding herself in an oil barrel." Bush suddenly laughed, and then his expression became ferocious. "What a cheap provocation!!"

"This is a premeditated political murder. We must mobilize all our forces to find out who the murderer is."

...

Clark and Bahash Johnson came out of the office.

The former handed over the cigarette.

Bahash smiled and said, "I don't smoke, thank you."

The FBI boss didn't care. He held a cigarette in his mouth and asked casually, "Who do you think is the murderer?"

"Africa? The Soviet Union? The Middle East? Or Mexico?"

"You should know more about intelligence than me. I'm just an ordinary secretary." Bahash Johnson said modestly.

Clark nodded, but suddenly changed the subject and stared at him, "Before Richard died, he suspected you were a spy..."

Bahash Johnson looked at him calmly, "Do you believe it?"

"I do not know."

"Then investigate it thoroughly. I also want to see who is the traitor." After saying that, Bahash Johnson nodded at him and left. He didn't look back. He could feel a pair of eyes staring at him, and his scalp felt slightly numb.

"Isn't it him?" Clark muttered to himself with a frown.

Is there any loser who can be the FBI Director?

He had known for a long time that there was a problem within the organization, but he didn't know who it was. He shared the same idea as Richard that Bahash Johnson was a major suspect.

What if Bush Sr.'s executive secretary and national security adviser committed treason?

Clark shuddered suddenly.

11 month 21 day.

The US military sent transport planes to withdraw the Second Battalion from Kuwait. When they stepped on Mexican soil again, Rommel breathed a sigh of relief, and a smile appeared on his dead face.

The last few days in Kuwait were truly thrilling. The detention of the front-line commander made the US military very dissatisfied. At one point, they sent soldiers to rush into the barracks. The machine guns were all unsafe. As long as someone's hands shook, a new round of war would come.

"Lieutenant Colonel Rommel, welcome home!"

Horatio Herbert Kitchener, who came to greet them, gave a hug to several officers of the second battalion, "You did a good job, the general is very happy."

"Thank you, sir!"

"Let's go. The general is waiting for you at the Governor's Mansion and will hold a celebration party for you."

When the second battalion gathered to leave, on the other side of the airport, Donald Rumsfeld and the US Ambassador to Mexico covered the coffin with the national flag with serious expressions.

No matter how well it is protected, it will start to stink after a dozen days.

But George H.W. Bush still had to "give a speech", and these corpses were the best "tools". Wouldn't it be useless if they were burned to ashes?

But Donald Rumsfeld is different. He is a soldier and he can empathize.

"rise!"

As the order sounded, groups of four American soldiers carried the coffin onto the transport plane. Donald Rumsfeld stood there with a solemn expression.

The military band played the American national anthem.

But at this moment, a very abrupt sound of music suddenly rang out, so loud that it could cover the entire airport.

"Asshole! Asshole!" The US ambassador to Mexico was trembling all over, and Donald Rumsfeld had an equally ugly expression.

Because this song is "Sunny" sung by the West German group Boney.M in 1976. It has a cheerful rhythm and was originally used as "disco" dance music.

Damn, playing this song in this situation is just like playing "Bombing Tokyo" in Japan?

"I'll go find them...to protest!" the ambassador said angrily.

But he took two steps and turned to look at Donald. Why didn't he pull him?
Shouldn't I advise myself to stay calm?
The ambassador hesitated, then finally walked back to his seat, cursing.

"continue."

Donald said calmly, and helped carry the coffin onto the plane.

But only he himself knows what he is thinking.

Of course Victor was not so "stingy". He had no time to care about those Americans. He was in his office, listening to Kennedy's military report.

The guerrillas and anti-Vic coalition forces in the south captured six states, openly used the media to sell drugs, used BBS to recruit soldiers, set up a black market, and directly brought some businesses that could not be put on the table to the surface.

That's telling Victor straight away.

Didn’t you tell us not to sell?
We won’t!

Not only did he not want to listen, he also told it loudly to the whole world.

You, Victor, don’t have enough face!
"Drug traffickers have begun to build airports, oil depots and train personnel. Our intelligence personnel have even discovered the presence of mercenaries from the South African Strategic Resources Company EO. There are quite a few of them, hundreds of them," Kennedy said.

"These people will not take action unless they see money. There must be one or more financial backers behind these rebels," said Augustin Przewczynski, director of the Foreign Intelligence Service.

Victor nodded, as if he suddenly thought of something, "Do we have anyone over there?"

"Yes!" Augustin Przewuchir nodded vigorously. "I have contacted Ethan Hunt. He is now the Colombian envoy to Mexico and is Pablo's spy here."

"? Promoted again?" Victor naturally did not forget the other party. Before, Pablo asked him to bring people to Mexico to cause trouble and try to kill Casare, but later because of some things happened, he went to Guatemala to wait for the right time.

Agustin Przewczyr was silent for a moment. “He tricked Pablo’s own sister into bed with him.”

"... "

I'm afraid the air will suddenly become quiet.

It turns out that having a skill is a good thing.

Victor's eye twitched, "Ethan has really found the direction that suits him."

"He has great power, and in addition to him, we have dozens of grassroots intelligence personnel in that organization. As long as there is any movement, we will know it."

"We are a loose group of people. It's just that some people are unhappy with us and want to launch a proxy war at this time. They want to destroy Mexico and hinder our progress." Casare also interjected.

"We have suppressed the United States. Who else in the world dares to stand up? They are all a bunch of losers. The war on drugs continues. We will eliminate the remaining drug dealers in Juarez and launch a full-scale attack on Guadalajara. Don't they think I will back down? Pull out El Mencho and hang him on the railings. Live broadcast every day. I want to see if any drug dealers in the city dare to resist?"

"Give them three hours to lay down their weapons and come out. We will guarantee their lives. Otherwise, Guadalajara will be razed to the ground!"

"Let the missile brigade launch a missile first to test the waters!"

"understand!"

"Let's go, it's time to welcome our battle heroes."

...

Donald Rumsfeld returned to the United States on a transport plane.

Arlington Air Force Base, Virginia.

George H.W. Bush and other senior American officials all stood solemnly in black suits, with reporters' cameras behind them. With tears in his eyes, he even personally carried down the coffin of the commander, Lieutenant Colonel Tom Mathis.

But when he touched his hand, his expression froze. The stench of the corpse made his stomach uncomfortable, but he still held it in. His feet were a little shaky, but he couldn't stop this show.

He placed the coffin in the prepared position, turned his back to the reporters, slightly pulled his face, and returned to his sad look.

When all the more than 200 bodies were carried down.

Many people felt the stench.

Amid the crying of family members, George H.W. Bush walked onto the podium with a prepared press release.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are at Arlington Air Force Base, welcoming our heroes!"

A gust of wind blew at just the right moment.

The stench of the corpse was blown directly onto Bush Sr.'s face, and in an instant, the nausea that had just been suppressed came back again.

Perhaps he thought of his comrades who were eaten by sharks in the Pacific Ocean.

"Well!!"

I couldn't help it and just vomited it out!
The Secret Service was stunned.

Donald was also a little sluggish.

It's really... really embarrassing!
(End of this chapter)