Working as a police officer in Mexico

Goebbels watched them get on the US military's "Hercules" and soar into the sky with flashing lights!

The rain was pouring down, and the raindrops touched the clothes and then fell down, falling to the ground. In the reflection of the splash, you could vaguely see the snake-like eyes of Mr. Propaganda Minister.

The secretary next to him hurriedly put the umbrella above his head and thoughtfully put the tissues prepared, "Sir, do you want to go back to the official residence?"

"How can I sleep?" Goebbels took a deep breath. "The north is in chaos, the drug dealers are resurgent, and the general's safety outside is not guaranteed. I'm worried."

"I heard that Mr. Casare was very angry when he heard about the general's assassination and smashed his favorite watch, which was worth a lot of money." The secretary said in a low voice next to him.

Goebbels' eyes flashed and he said, "He is also worried that the north cannot lose its general, just like the west cannot lose Jerusalem."

In fact, the devil knows what they are thinking.

Wherever there are people, there will actually be competition, and there can be no harmony inside. Victor is the only link that always controls this point of competition.

that power!

It can be disorienting.

The general, on the other hand, is a person of kindness and a leader.

The bosses of several factions knew this well and did not dare to make a big fuss. If Victor was angry, they would really slap each of them.

Goebbels did not dare to say that his status in the general's heart was greater than that of Casare.

"Let's go! Go back to the office." Since we can't fight openly, I'll trap you to death.

Bang~

The plane bumped when it encountered turbulence. Erich Manstein, the staff officer of the 4th Battalion and commander of the 2nd Company, clutched the armrest above his head tightly, his lips turning a little white.

"Are you afraid of heights?" Rommel looked at him and asked with a frown.

"One thing... When I was a kid, I saw an air show in the countryside. A trainer plane fell from the sky, which was a bit shadowy." Erich Manstein was quite frank.

This is why he decided not to be a pilot but to join the Army.

Rommel took out Green Arrow chewing gum (launched in 1914) from his coat pocket, handed it to him, and motioned for him to press it under his tongue.

"I heard it's possible for our battalion to be transformed into an airborne force?" Manstein asked, suppressing his nausea.

"It's possible," said Adjutant Fedor von Bock.

"I have done some research. There are more than 200,000 Iraqis confronting the Allies on the front line in Kuwait, and they are still adding troops. They are very empty internally. If there are 200 Hercules, we can airdrop more than 3,000 soldiers to Abu Dhabi." Doula Bay, control the transportation road from Iraq to Kuwait, and attack local military targets. If we can airdrop 10,000 people, I think we can go around the border, directly into Karbala Province in western Iraq, and then rush Enter Babylon!"

"The war will be magnified in our hands...or ended!"

Listening to his bold battle idea, Rommel and Fedor von Bock looked at each other, and their eyelids twitched.

"What if there is ground air defense? Wouldn't it be like a sky garden?" the deputy battalion commander asked hesitantly.

"Then use air superiority to blow up all the ground air defense facilities and clear the way for ground troops and airborne troops!"

The basic principle of blitzkrieg is actually to rely on absolute strength to crush the enemy.

The core elements are: speed, surprise, and concentration. In military operations, these three elements are both strategic and tactical.

Rommel frowned and thought carefully. According to Erich Manstein's battle plan, if there was a confrontation with the US military on the front line, the possibility of a "surprise attack on Babylon" was very high, but if it was blocked, then There is a bloody battle to be fought.

But isn't war just a gamble?

Who can say victory is inevitable?

"Then what do you think our more than 1,000 people can do?" As a battalion commander, Rommel was also under great pressure. He was promoted too quickly and was now a colonel.

If you don't fight a good battle, how can you deal with the general?

But many people are jealous of their own upgrade speed.

Erich Manstein glanced at him and said, "Battalion Commander, our greatest achievement is that we don't make mistakes."

Wouldn't it be better to give the US military a swipe at its back...

But Rommel was obviously not very satisfied with this answer. He frowned and chewed gum quietly.

Many soldiers in the cabin had their eyes open and looked slightly nervous.

In the cockpit of the C-130 transport aircraft "Hercules".

Two US military pilots sip coffee.

"Tell me, what are those Mexicans at the back thinking?" the driver suddenly asked.

"Perhaps they were looking left and right, wondering why the transport plane had so much space and how many avocados would be sold."

This discriminatory joke made the driver laugh out loud.

Americans are inherently arrogant.

"You mean, the CIA has helped me identify the murderer? Is it the Colombian guerrillas?"

Austria, Vienna, Castle Hotel.

Victor looked at the American representative Asmir Ward in front of him and almost laughed out loud.

CIA help me catch the murderer?

Holding his own balls with his left hand, and then holding a gun against his ureter?

Asmir Ward felt a little embarrassed when he saw Victor's half-smiling expression.

In fact, he is also an insider. He actually knows many things when he is stationed at the United Nations, and a lot of information will pass through his hands.

Asmir Ward gritted his teeth and nodded vigorously, "Yes, this is the testimony of the murderer who shot you. He is affiliated with the Colombian armed forces. Last time the plane you were returning to was bombed, they were also involved behind the scenes. Don't worry, The United States will help you get an explanation for this matter."

"Where's the murderer?"

"Last night at the Vienna police station, he suddenly died of a serious illness, and the doctors had no time to save him."

Sudden illness?

Do you think I look like some kind of idiot?

You might as well say you masturbated to death...

This is really an old CIA technique. At least this time, he didn't say he was shot eight times.

Victor looked at him and suddenly smiled, "Thank you very much. I believe that the CIA's ability will never make a mistake."

Both men knew it, but...they were both dealing with each other hypocritically.

"Part of the US$2.5 billion in military aid has been delivered, and the remaining part will be settled within these two days."

"Thank you so much."

Asmir Ward took his leave after looking at his watch. Victor personally sent him out and opened the car door for him.

The other party just stepped into the car with one foot, hesitated for a moment, and looked at him, "The most important thing now is the war in Iraq, do you understand?"

Victor nodded with a smile. After he got in the car, he closed the car door forcefully, waved and watched the other person leave.

After the car drove away, his facial expression softened slightly, he snapped his fingers and stretched out two fingers. Naturally, someone behind him placed a cigarette for him and lit it for him.

Taking a deep breath, Victor raised his head at a 45° angle and let out a long breath.

Everyone behind him didn't dare to say a word.

Everyone can feel that the boss is very angry!

"We're not kids anymore, are we? Jason."

Jason Bourne nodded from behind.

Victor looked at him, "Yes."

Bian nodded and threw half of the cigarette on the ground, "I don't have any parents who can make me complain, but my chest is really uncomfortable. Please touch it and see."

He said, grabbing his captain's hand and placing it on his chest.

"You hear that? My heart is angry."

"heard it."

"I'm an adult, but sometimes I'm childish, Jason." Victor took a deep breath, walked toward the house, raised his hands, "Tell the brothers that I'm angry."

Jason Bourne's eyes instantly lit up.

Standing behind, he waved his hands vigorously.

"Hi!"

Just let me go if you told me to let go?

You gave birth to the CIA and you show unscrupulous favoritism?

Godson is not a son?

I also have to support you in your old age. Damn it, I’ll kick off your wheelchair now!

Victor can tolerate many things.

But if you think my life is cheap, then let’s see whose life is more cheap!

Kill the CIA!

Let them understand what it means to be angry!

Victor's life is very cheap. After working as a prison guard, does the life of you American son of a bitch become very valuable?

Oh shit!

I'm going to tell you, the United States is too close to the Mexican lunatic!

…

New York, USA.

The famous Times Square.

This is a bustling neighborhood in Manhattan known as the "Crossroads of the World."

Here you can see people of various skin colors and different costumes.

Artists playing the piano upside down, human body magicians sitting suspended in the air, etc.

But in fact, most families are not very wealthy. They stand here as if they are really at the center of the world.

With slightly envious, greedy and embarrassed eyes, he watched the rich people walking out of the luxury store, followed by more than a dozen staff members who helped carry them.

"boom!"

Suddenly, a gunshot broke the tranquility of this bustling place, and everyone looked in the direction of the gunshot.

I saw a young woman lying on the ground next to a Porsche. She was wearing stockings.

The gunman was a black man. After he killed the other man, he shot another older woman in the co-pilot three times!

Now the people around him reacted and ran away screaming!

The black man pointed the gun at his own mouth with trembling hands, and pulled the trigger!

Committed suicide!

The police arrived quickly, but all they left behind were three bodies and bullet casings on the ground.

"Have you found out the identity of the murderer and the deceased?" A police sergeant frowned, with a sausage in his mouth. The $4 was not cheap.

"Sheriff, something happened." A black man with a beard came over and frowned. "The identity of the murderer has not been found, but the identities of the two women who were shot have been revealed."

"They are both CIA agents on leave."

"???" The sergeant nearly choked to death after taking a bite of the sausage. He opened his eyes wide and punched his chest hard, his face turning red. "Did the FBI do it?"

The subordinate looked embarrassed. Is it okay for you to say this?

But obviously, the entire United States knows that no one is happy with the relationship between the two major intelligence agencies.

Ordinary police officers will not have any different opinions because of their special status. In the United States, what is impossible to happen?

Several presidents have died, isn’t it the CIA?

But just as the sergeant finished giving instructions and followed the procedure, the radio communication in the car rang. He stood outside the window and reached for it, with his other hand on his waist, "Hey, this is Smith here."

"A shooting occurred in front of Broadway on the 23rd block, killing a family of seven. Please support!"

Officer Smith was startled and said, "I understand, I'll come right away."

Just as he was about to rush over, the communication radio rang again, "There was a violent attack on Wall Street, and the murderer was carrying an AK, OMG!"

There was a crisp sound of gunfire and a "sizzling" sound after the current was interfered with.

No matter how retarded Smith was, he still felt something was wrong. The shootings happened too densely. What was the connection between the dead? Are they all CIA agents?

"Head! Head! Head!"

The black police officer ran over and looked at Smith. One eye widened and the other was squinted. He stumbled and almost fell.

"When did you panic?"

"Langley...Langley was blown up!"

…

Ten minutes ago!

CIA headquarters, Langley entrance.

A man wearing a peaked cap smoked a cigarette and sat in a pickup truck. His eyes were sinister and hesitant, and his hand reached out of the window, holding a cigarette.

The phone placed in the passenger seat rang. He turned his head suddenly, put the cigarette in his mouth, and picked up the phone hastily.

"Dad!" A voice from the other side cried in fear.

"Snake!" the man shouted hurriedly.

But there was a voice on the other end, like a frog, which should have been changed, "Do as we say, and we will let your son go."

The man squeezed the phone hard and said, "Don't lie to me! Otherwise, I will make your death ugly!"

The person on the other side didn't even sneer and hung up the phone.

He gritted his teeth, started the vehicle, and drove towards the CIA headquarters. On his car was written: XXX Milk.

There were boxes in the back of the pickup truck.

A man can hear the beating of his own heart, boom! boom! boom!

He honked the horn at the guard post, and two security guards walked out. He stuck his head out, smiled and waved.

"Brick, why is it you?"

"Milk delivery, here is the manifest." The man smiled and handed over the stamped manifest. The security guard took it over, looked at it, and asked casually, "Isn't milk usually delivered in the morning? Why is it also delivered in the afternoon?"

"I don't know, I just deliver the goods, hahaha."

"Okay, go in. You know the rules. Don't run around. Otherwise, you'll get caught and you won't be able to deliver the milk." The security guard joked.

Brick waited for the railing to lift up, then stepped on the accelerator and rushed in.

"Weird, he was very strange today..." said a short security guard.

"What the hell, red necks have a little bit of a brain."

Brick watched the pickup truck drive straight into the CIA headquarters. He didn't even notice that in a cabin by the Potomac River, a pair of eyes were looking at him with binoculars.

When he saw the pickup truck driving in, he raised the corner of his mouth, picked up a remote control from the window, and pressed the red button in the middle.

collapse! Boom! Boom! ! ! !

The huge explosion shot straight into the sky, and the black mist rose, and the whole Langley seemed to shake.

"Oh haha!!!" The man waved his arms excitedly, turned his head and performed a dance with his hands raised. When passing by a kid who was tied up and wearing a blindfold, he touched his head and walked out. house.

He took out a grenade from his pocket, pulled the safety button, threw it into the house behind him, covered his ears and ran away!

With a bang, the small building collapsed directly.

At this time, Langley sounded the alarm, and there were chaotic crowds and armed men with weapons everywhere.

The pickup truck exploded into pieces, bursting into flames, and the windows and doors on both sides were shattered by the shock wave. Lying on the ground were more than two dozen CIA employees with broken limbs and arms.

"Mr. Steven! Mr. Steven! Hurry, call an ambulance!!" A black woman wearing a black short skirt and her hair tied up knelt beside a man and swayed for a few times. When she saw that he didn't move, she He suddenly panicked and screamed.

At this time, the Director of the CIA, Mr. Richard James Kerr, was originally in his office. By coincidence, the pickup truck exploded just as it was passing below, and a steel plate flew up from below. , breaking the glass.

He sat down on the ground, staring at the thick smoke outside the window, with a look of fear on his face!

The security personnel in the building rushed into the house immediately and looked at him nervously, "Sir, are you injured?"

Seeing Richard James Kerr shaking his head, he immediately breathed a sigh of relief and helped him up, "Let's leave first."

A group of people protected him and ran away immediately from the safe passage.

When he came down from the back, he heard a burst of crying in front of him. He glanced and saw a familiar figure among the people who fell to the ground. The senior assistant was also his confidant secretary Steven, but now he was lying down. .

The director hesitated for a moment, then followed the security personnel to retreat first.

I can't die here.

He can still climb higher. Bush can be president, and so can I.

so…

A funny scene happened.

When the explosion occurred, no one stood up to maintain order.

CIA...management is really chaotic.

When the FBI arrived after receiving the call, they took control of the scene. The leader was Floyd I. Clark, now the director of the FBI.

When he heard that the CIA had been attacked by terrorists, he almost wanted to laugh. He led the team himself. When he got off the car, he looked for his old enemy, but he couldn't find him at all. He put his hands on his hips and said loudly and deliberately with very unflattering words, " Richard is such a loser, he ran away first when something happened.”

Many CIA employees who said this had ugly expressions on their faces, but they could not refute and could only lower their heads.

Actually, who could have imagined this.

CIA has never had its headquarters attacked since it moved to Langley. I haven't heard of it in the past few decades. The last time was during World War II, when Pearl Harbor was bombed.

Richard James Kerr: I haven't seen anything like this either.

You said that bombings of CIA headquarters overseas are common, but this is the United States.

Isn't this a terrorist attack? This is a terrorist attack!

Floyd I. Clark looked around with great pride and asked his deputy, "Have you found out the identity of the murderer?"

"Snake Cohen, 31 years old, a former member of the Marine Corps, worked for the CIA after retiring, and has been overseas for a long time. He resigned six months ago and became a full-time milkman. He is unmarried and has a son."

The FBI is the FBI, and there is nothing to say about its ability.

Floyd I. Clark touched his bald head and frowned, "A retired CIA agent blew up the CIA headquarters?"

"Did Richard owe him a salary?"

"Or did Richard play with his subordinate's wife again?"

...