Working as a police officer in Mexico
Chapter 843 - 454: "North America's Furious Action!"_2

Direct soft detention.

Donald had never been treated like this before. He was so enraged that he felt dizzy, unable to stand. Security staff had to carry him away.

"Robert..." Nixon's voice was as faint as a mosquito's hum, but the Deputy Defense Minister standing nearby trembled, his eyes wide open, his heart pounding furiously. He jogged over, bent slightly forward, and wore a fawning smile. "Sir."

"You'll handle Donald's upcoming duties."

Robert Gates felt like a pie had fallen from the sky and smacked him dizzy. He swallowed nervously and hesitated, "But what about Clinton…?"

Reagan, standing nearby, interjected immediately, "He's not the President yet."

"Besides, he's been failing quite miserably lately. The public doesn't matter much to us, but every now and then, we have to take their voices into account."

"After all…"

"It's like mosquitoes buzzing incessantly around. Who wouldn't be irritated after hearing that?"

Robert Gates instantly understood. If Clinton couldn't resolve the 'Saint James Island incident,' his ascension would turn into a joke. He'd end up becoming the administration's scapegoat sent out to take the fall.

"Can you handle it?"

Robert Gates didn't raise his head, but he could sense both Reagan and Nixon watching him closely.

He gritted his teeth and nodded earnestly.

"Absolutely no problem!"

"We look forward to your good news. Oh, and be careful — we have traitors within our ranks."

Then John Ellis Bush handed over a file, patting him on the shoulder. "Congratulations, future... Defense Minister."

Robert lifted his head, forcing a smile onto his face.

He resembled nothing less than a dog.

Taking the file, he opened it for a glance, and there it was — the incident.

February 3rd, 1:00 a.m.

Operation plan: "North American Fury!"

...

Victor didn't have much time for romance, of course.

Belsaria stayed in Mexico for three days before taking a flight back to Germany.

She was continuing her PhD studies there.

Meanwhile, Emperor Victor threw himself into work, especially starting January 2nd.

The United Nations came forward to condemn Victor for bombing the cruiser, expressing profound concerns over the matter.

Mexico's diplomatic department responded with just two words: "Bring it!"

On its official website, written in blood-red font: "The Mexican people will never yield to hegemony!"

"We are individuals; the earth belongs to the world!"

This kind of bold defiance made newly-appointed Boutros-Ghali on January 1st feel particularly awkward.

"Dear brother, I just took office, couldn't you at least show me some face?"

Mexico: "No. If you want respect, come and take it yourself — I won't spare you."

January 6th…

The United Kingdom, Spain, France, Italy, and the United States announced joint naval exercises 100 nautical miles off Mexico's waters.

The U.S. Navy's Eisenhower left Norfolk Naval Base, arriving at the designated sea area with its entourage first.

Complete maritime blockade!

The forces pointed directly toward Southern Baja California State.

Standing at the port with binoculars, even the silhouette of the aircraft carrier could be glimpsed.

Meanwhile, in the Gulf of Mexico near Tamaulipas State, the U.S. Navy imposed a full blockade, prohibiting any vessels from departing.

Some fishermen tried sneaking out, only to retreat hastily when confronted by military ships.

Air traffic was strictly controlled, with GPS services entirely shut down, dealing a heavy blow to Mexico's aviation industry.

In comparison...

The Mexican Navy was pitifully fragile, with only coastal artillery systems providing token intimidation. But the other side smartened up, staying out of range. What could you possibly do?

This was the maritime front...

On land, New Mexico, Arizona, and California intensified the deployment of their National Guards along the border, sealing it completely and forbidding anyone from crossing.

Conflict seemed inevitable.

The smell of firecrackers from New Year's celebrations still lingered in the air, but everyone could feel the impending footsteps of war.

Meanwhile, as the situation in Mexico appeared relatively uneventful, one piece of news pushed Victor to the forefront.

Rumors circulated suggesting that the Vieri family held significant assets in Mexico, with many of its members allegedly engaging in corruption. Reports claimed the family also owned an enormous array of overseas properties.

Victor preached fighting for the proletariat, but hypocritically reveled in a life filled with business dealings.

He was branded a traitor!

Mexico, like the Soviet Union, was riddled with leaders involved in graft and corruption. Don't let them fool you.

Although the intimidation by local stationed troops kept unrest at bay, the "rumors" spread further and grew increasingly absurd.

Sonora State, Moctezuma Small Town, home to about 40,000 residents, primarily dependent on agriculture.

Jorge Campos, dragging a crippled leg and sporting a scruffy beard, his complexion darkened by the sun, carried a hoe while trudging his weary self toward his house.

A cheap cigarette dangled from his lips.

The sun dipped on the horizon behind him, the sunset stretching his shadow long...

He looked just like the quintessential lower-class man.

"Hey, Jorge!"

A playful voice rang out. Jorge raised his head, spotting someone familiar squatting a short distance away...

Oles Camuster...

A petty rogue from the same village, infamous for sticky fingers. His father, a drug trafficker, had been executed by Government Forces. However, his family was spared, and Oles himself was released after six months in prison.

Even so, he returned to a life of idleness, neglecting the farmland allocated to him.

Jorge Campos frowned and pretended not to hear. He wanted nothing to do with this man, dragging his leg as he continued walking.

But the man seemed glued to him, quickly approaching and sizing him up. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, been to the fields again?"