Working as a police officer in Mexico

Chapter 437 - 303: "I don’t know how far God is from the United States, but I am very close to the United States, sir." _3

Rudendorf had even started rolling up his sleeves.

He was ready to take on ten!

Although Victor’s expression was calm, his tone was maniacal, "I just want to let the outside world know that I will never back down in the fight against drug crime. If anyone crosses the line, it means war!"

"Before I die, I will drag others down with me!"

F***!

Donald Rumsfeld had seen many national leaders, some of whom were mentally unstable and not a few paranoids, but he had never seen anyone threatening openly like Victor.

"I don’t know how far God is from the United States, but I am very close to the United States, sir."

19 kilometers, just a fart away. The Americans could open their mouths and have an extra meal at night.

The two groups glared at each other.

Pearson was afraid Donald Rumsfeld would die of anger behind them.

That would really be a sight to see.

"I hope the decision you made today is the right one, Governor," said the old defense minister, leaving without looking back.

Tea?

Who wants tea now!

I’m already full of anger.

When Victor saw them leaving, he politely arranged for a helicopter squadron to send them back.

"General, this is pretty much like tearing our faces off with the Americans," Kennedy said by his side.

"Torn? Not necessarily. The military’s role is to boost my voice. Even if The Pentagon is upset, they might just let the CIA hassle me. Do they dare to wage war?"

The cost of a massive military operation is too much for them to bear.

Victor smiled.

"The politicians have very thick skin. They care about their own gains and losses, not the national dignity."

…

The United States delegation looked very grim.

Hmm…

They came in the afternoon and got back to the United States by 5 PM, just in time for dinner.

Donald Rumsfeld went to see Old Bush, called his staff, and they talked for hours in the office.

What they discussed, no one knew.

But the next day, the spokesperson announced the suspension of arms support to Mexico.

And, there would be renegotiations of American interests in Mexico.

But they acknowledged the Northern Mexican Army’s efforts in the drug-fighting mission.

Privately, however, the CIA received orders from the White House.

To put Victor on the "Red File," sabotaging the path of liberation for the Northern Army.

This red list contained a few familiar names.

Fidel Castro, Saddam, Gaddafi, and Khamenei!

These were all well-known anti-American fighters!

Victor was on this list primarily because Mexico’s geographical location was too "good," good enough to scare the Americans.

While the White House didn’t issue further instructions, the CIA, already having issues with Victor, suddenly became enthusiastic.

"The CIA is planning to assassinate Victor?!" Senior Assistant Pearson exclaimed in shock.

FBI Director Floyd I. Clark crossed his arms, "That’s what our mole inside the CIA says. Victor is courting death!"

"How about the generals close to Victor? Have any been bought over?"

Pearson shook his head, "Not looking good. Those generals seem to really idolize Victor, almost as if… he has become God!"

"Even God can be betrayed; it’s just a matter of not enough chips. Up the ante; we need our own informants inside Mexico."

Pearson sighed inwardly; even if he felt sympathy for Victor now, it was too late.

He was doomed.

No saving him now…

Victor’s missile deeply provoked them.

No matter how good the relations were before, when they want you dead, even the dearest become dog dirt.

There couldn’t be an overt war, but letting the CIA engage in some dirty tricks to possibly unseat Victor was the next best thing.

A massive storm targeting Victor was brewing.

…

The Northern Army fired 17 high-explosive missiles at Juarez!

Damn it…

I’ll flatten you!

"You want to fight street battles with me, I’ll play ruins with you!"

"Just rebuild it if it’s too bad!"

On October 28, 1990, the 1st Marine Division was re-engaged in combat.

But there were still sporadic resistances.

After all, even the most powerful missiles couldn’t flatten 180 square kilometers of Juarez instantly, at most they wiped out some skyscrapers and high-value targets.

However…

The spirit of the drug traffickers crumbled instantly.

Bomb them with missiles!

Who could withstand that?

F***!

Victor, do you have loads of money? Are missiles free?

Ye Jihuan, walking on the ruins with his comrades, vigilantly scanned the surroundings and suddenly heard a noise.

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He quickly turned around and fired three shots at a collapsed hole.

"Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!" A cry came from inside, with the local dialect, but Ye Jihuan didn’t quite understand, it was rather chaotic, he asked a bespectacled comrade beside him, "What did he say?"

"He said he’s a civilian."

"Let him come out."

His comrade jabbered in foreign language, and then from the hole, a man emerged, his face covered in dust and full of sorrow.

Holding a… child.

"Please, save her, save her," the man kneeled on the ground, banging his head, yelling loudly.

Ye Jihuan frowned and gave his comrade a look. The comrade approached, checked the child’s eyelids and breathing, and then shook his head towards him.

Dead.

"We have found a civilian, please prepare the team to take him away," Ye Jihuan pressed his headset.

"Roger."

"Ah!!" The man understood that his child was dead and cried heartbreakingly, a grown man, just sprawled on the ground.

It was heart-wrenching to hear.

Just as Ye Jihuan lowered his gun, he suddenly saw the man tackle the nearest comrade to the ground, furiously tearing at his face.

"Murderers! You murderers! Give me back my child, give me back my child!!" he yelled furiously with red eyes.

"Let go! Let go!" Several soldiers rushed up to pull him off, yet, crazed, he couldn’t be restrained by two or three men.

Bang!

A gunshot.

Ye Jihuan quickly looked over to see a hole in the man’s forehead, his eyes wide open, his body falling backward.

He crashed heavily to the ground.

The Private First Class who fired the gun had a bit of a confused look as he faced his comrades.

Ye Jihuan was silent for a moment before saying, "Let’s go."

He didn’t blame his comrade, whom could he blame?

Could he blame Victor?

The war he had started?

But without the drug war, Mexico would have no future forever, and the Mexicans, no hope!

Yet the war begun…

One missile, killing drug traffickers, also harmed civilians.

If there’s blame, it’s for living in this godforsaken place.

War never lets anyone off.

It only greedily devours any life, with no mercy.

Perhaps…

For many who begged for peace, Victor’s Northern Army was also a perpetrator of disturbance.

At least, when drug traffickers were around, everyone was still alive.

The sky is blue; beside a bombed-out house, a little hand extends out of the rubble.

Holding an origami crane.

In the world of black and white reflections, this touch of color carries utter despair.

The world is fine.

Next life, won’t come.

...