Working as a police officer in Mexico

November 17!

The United States and Mexico signed the Tijuana Treaty in front of journalists from all over the world in Tijuana.

Click~

The shutter sound of the camera kept ringing, and Donald Rumsfeld and Victor squeezed their hands together.

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

Old man!

A sixty-year-old man, still pretending to be a mother?

Do you think I am a vegetarian?

No, even monks have to say that the Buddha is incompetent in front of me.

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

But he still smiled at the camera.

The spokesperson will be responsible for the next matter. The two big guys don't need to be on the stage. When they came down from the stage, Donald suddenly said, "Young people, sometimes it's not good to be too arrogant."

"If you are not arrogant, can you still be called young people?" Victor smiled and glanced, "Will you be arrogant when you are old and lying on the hospital bed?"

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

This made the old defense minister who claimed to be well-mannered a little angry. Looking at Victor's face, he almost couldn't help but want to do him.

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

"They are suspected of insulting the leader and will enter the judicial process. To a large extent, they will be sent to dig coal." Casare, who was standing next to him, said seriously.

"He is an American."

"He is a criminal!"

The two people stared at each other, and finally Victor waved his hand, "Forget it, let's take a step back. 20 million US dollars, take the two people away."

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

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

"Or else? What do you think?" Casare asked back, holding up a finger, "However, robbery has no risk, whoring does. If you hand over quickly, you can still catch up with Director Richard's funeral."

The corners of the mouths of the Northern Army were full of looming sarcasm, and they surrounded Victor and left.

"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, squinting at Victor's figure, "Verbal protests are useless, Americans never like to use their mouths..."

"Do you think the death of CIA Director Richard is related to him?" Deputy Head Nicholas suddenly asked in a low voice beside him.

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

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

"The beheading operation failed, and the CIA thought that someone leaked internal information. Not long after Richard suspected it, he died. There is a lot of coincidence in this. I don't believe in coincidence."

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

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

The old defense secretary felt that there was a problem after hearing this, "I will tell Bush Sr., this matter must be taken seriously!"

It's tricky...

The White House.

"You mean, he died of sudden cardiac death!" Bush Sr. held the report sheet and asked in a deep voice, looking at Floyd I. Clark, the director of the FBI in front of him.

The paleness of the knuckles can be seen because of the force.

"That's what the forensic doctor said."

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

When Bush Sr. heard this, he almost picked up the pen holder next to him and threw it.

Can such obscene words be said in such a "sacred" office?

However, it's okay, the White House is actually dirty.

"Are you kidding? Clark, I don't like this kind of joke, you should know how shameful the US government is now, I am hung on the pillar of shame in history!"

Intelligence agencies around the world are mocking the CIA.

It's too shameful.

If he died in an assassination by some anti-American personnel, it would be fine, but you died on a woman's belly.

My God.

Floyd I. Clark had a nonchalant expression, and the FBI did not beat the drums and gongs and was worthy of the identity of "American".

However, it is said that many foreigners cried bitterly.

CIA's breeding technology is really good.

The FBI expressed envy.

"Did you find the mistress?"

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

"Can a living person fly!" Bush said loudly, slapping the table hard.

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

His executive secretary and assistant for national security affairs, Bahash Johnson, came in with a serious expression, "Sir, Richard's mistress has been found."

"Where is she?" Clark asked hurriedly beside him.

"In Austin, Texas, but she's dead. When she died, she was sealed in an oil barrel and thrown into the river. She was finally found by an old lady who was picking up trash."

Bahash Johnson said in a deep voice.

Old Bush, Clark and others were stunned.

The atmosphere was weird.

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

"This is a premeditated political murder. Use all your strength to find out who the murderer is."

…

Clark and Bahash Johnson walked out of the office.

The former handed over a cigarette.

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

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

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

"In terms of intelligence, you should know more 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 don't know."

"Then check it out carefully. I also want to see who is betraying the inside."

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 was slightly numb.

"Isn't it him?" Clark frowned and muttered to himself.

Is there any waste who can be the director of the FBI?

He had known that there was a problem inside, but who was it? He had the same idea as Richard. Bahash Johnson was a major suspect.

If Bush's executive secretary and assistant for national security affairs committed treason.

Clark shuddered suddenly.

November 21.

The U.S. 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 can be said to be a thrilling display. The detention of the front-line commander made the U.S. military very dissatisfied. At one point, they sent soldiers to rush into the barracks. The machine guns were all turned on the safety. As long as someone's hands were shaking, 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 a serious expression.

No matter how well it was protected, it would stink after more than ten 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 was different. He was a soldier and he could empathize.

"Get up!"

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

The military band played the American national anthem.

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

"Asshole! Asshole! "The US Ambassador to Mexico next to him was trembling all over, and Donald Rumsfeld had an equally grim expression.

Because this song was "Sunny" sung by 1y.M, with a cheerful rhythm, and was originally used as a "disco" dance music.

TMD, 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 his head to look at Donald. Why didn't the other party pull him?

Shouldn't he be advised to calm down?

The ambassador hesitated, and finally walked back to his seat, cursing.

"Go on. "

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

But only he knew what he was thinking.

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

The guerrillas and anti-Virginia allied forces in the South captured six states, openly used the media to sell drugs, and used BBS to recruit soldiers and build black markets, directly bringing some businesses that could not be put on the table to the scene.

This is directly told to Victor.

Aren't you not going to let us sell?

We won't!

We won't listen, and we have to tell the world with great fanfare.

You, Victor, don't have enough face!

"Drug dealers 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 Przewczyr, Director of the Foreign Intelligence Service.

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

"Yes!" Agustin Przewczyr nodded vigorously, "I have contacted Ethan Hunt, he is now the Colombian envoy to Mexico, and he 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 sabotage and find a way to kill Casare, but later because of some things, he went to Guatemala to wait for the right time.

Agustin Przewczyr was silent, "Pablo's sister was deceived into bed by him."

"..."

I was afraid that the air would suddenly become quiet.

It is indeed a good thing to have a skill.

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

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

"It's a mess, but some people are just unhappy with us. At this time, they want to launch a proxy war and want to destroy Mexico to hinder our progress." Casare also said from the side.

"We have suppressed the United States. Who else dares to stand up in other countries? They are all a bunch of chickens and dogs. The war on drugs continues. Eliminate the remaining drug dealers in Juarez and launch a full-scale attack on Guadalajara. Don't they think I will be a coward? Pull out El Mencho and hang him on the railing, live broadcast every day, I want to see if there are any drug dealers in the city who dare to resist?"

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

"Let the missile brigade launch a test first!"

"Understood!"

"Let's go, the time is up, let's go and welcome our combat heroes."

…

Donald Rumsfeld followed the transport plane back to the United States.

Landed at Arlington Air Force Base in Virginia.

Bush and other senior American officials all stood solemnly in black suits, with reporters' cameras and cannons behind them. He had tears in his eyes and even personally carried down the coffin of Commander Lieutenant Colonel Tom Mattis.

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

He put the coffin in the prepared position, turned his back to the reporter, pulled his face slightly, and regained his sad look.

When more than 200 bodies were all carried down.

Many people felt the stench.

Amid the crying of the family members, Bush walked onto the podium, and a press release was prepared on it.

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

A gust of wind blew just right.

The stench of the corpse blew directly on Bush's face, and in an instant, the nausea that had just been suppressed rushed up.

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

"Ugh!!"

He couldn't help it and vomited directly!

The Secret Service was stunned.

Donald was also a little dazed.

Really... really shameful!