Working as a police officer in Mexico
Chapter 856 - 459: Civil Officials Are Not Reluctant to Spend Money, Military Officers Are Not Afraid to Die!_2

"That's a tank, a tank!" The child shouted excitedly.

The father saw a large transporter loaded with a dozen tanks and armored vehicles on its two levels.

The drivers on the roadside were astonished, getting out of their cars and pointing at the scene.

"That's the M198 155mm howitzer. One shot from that, and not even dust would remain."

Some military enthusiasts were mesmerized by the equipment, throwing out model names casually.

Seeing the equipment, these enthusiasts looked as thrilled as predators eyeing their prey.

The sound of their breathing was all the same.

"See that muzzle? M109 self-propelled howitzer, the standard weapon of the Americans, damn!"

"And that... is it the Type 83 self-propelled artillery?"

"This should be part of a Marine Division. Is it heading to Tijuana?"

Many people didn't understand the military hardware but could deduce the tension from the news about the border situation.

"Is war about to start?" a worried woman asked.

"It should be. Fight! Fighting is good. Those damn Yankee capitalists should get a taste of the iron fist. And now, the humiliation of the US-Mexico War will be avenged!"

Looking at the weapons and equipment, many elder Mexicans felt a surge of pride.

That was exactly what Victor intended. He had deliberately ordered the military convoy to move without covering up.

He wanted everyone to see that this war might not be as one-sided as people imagined.

The Americans had advanced weapons...

But they had one fatal flaw: they were too close to Mexico.

The Fourth Army, along with three artillery regiments, totaled over a thousand artillery pieces. According to the military department's orders, wait until February 2nd for the opponent to launch its assault.

Concentrate fire, launch a full bombardment!

In the first instance, turn the border zone into rubble.

Of course, precautions against U.S. air power had to be taken. The Gulf War was a valuable lesson: without strong air defense capabilities, they'd be sitting ducks.

Air defense battalions from the Central First Army, Second Army, and Third Army, along with the "Patriot"-3 missile air defense regiment directly under the military department, were already moving toward the border.

Victor was ready to fight a major campaign.

Faced with NATO and United Nations "warnings," Victor arrived at the frontline on the 27th.

Sonora State, Nogales.

This place was only 100 kilometers away from the United States.

Stationed here were two divisions from the Marine Fourth Army, the 337th and 338th divisions, with a total of over 8,700 men.

Over a thousand soldiers stood arranged in formation.

Standing on the podium, Victor felt the strong aura of hostility, his chest swelling with fiery passion.

"Brothers!"

"I won't speak grand theories. I am practically useless in warfare, but those damned Yanks—they don't want us to live well. They hate anyone standing next to them, exposing their darkness!"

"They hate anyone who raises the spark for the poor. But what do they love?"

"They love sitting in their offices, sipping coffee, and arrogantly judging the children of workers and farmers. They've killed the upward paths of the lower classes. They've committed crimes—why has no one judged them?"

"Why do we fight?"

Victor raised his hand, his expression fervent, "For ideals, for the greatest and simplest beliefs of humankind. We are humans, not animals!"

"Of course, I know that outside, some people sneer, saying that Victor, sitting in the National Palace, glorifies himself with others' lives."

"Trust me, if the Yankees step onto our soil, I..."

He clapped his chest hard, "would die fighting on the frontline. If anyone sees me fleeing, shoot me on the spot."

His words were fiercely impassioned.

The soldiers below, averaging less than 22 years of age, looked at him with blazing eyes.

It was like hearing one phrase: the country needs us now.

Who wouldn't feel their scalp tingling upon hearing that?

"Also, Vice President Casare Gonzalez's younger brother is serving among you. He will lead the charge."

"We are different from capitalism. Our children are never gilded; they go to the fiercest parts of the war. Anyone can sacrifice—why not our own family?"

Victor looked at Fat Casare and gestured for him to say a few words.

The latter stepped forward, taking a deep breath, "I hope my younger brother fights bravely, fears no death. When ideals and faith crumble and fail, meet me in hell—I will walk with you!"

Many people on the stage were visibly stunned, clearly taken aback by his courage to say something so bold.

They had thought him just a privileged "traitorous official," but he had unexpectedly revealed such daring.

Humans are indeed complicated.

Finally, the soldiers below couldn't contain their murmurs, looking at one another.

They weren't afraid of dying—they were just afraid their deaths would be in vain.

But when the sons of VIPs joined them in battle, it was worth more than a thousand speeches.

This wasn't like Old Bush in the Pacific War, falling into the ocean and requiring tens of thousands of men to rescue him.

As for Mountbatten, that useless figure, if not for his high bloodline, would he have made it as a commander?

Even his underpants would've disdained him.

Only dogs care about bloodlines.

"Mexican people, long live! Freedom, long live!"

Casare raised his hand and cheered loudly.

The soldiers below were bursting with morale, echoing loudly in response.

Amidst the formation below...

Felix pursed his lips tightly, holding back the tears threatening to fall.

"Don't worry, brother. I will not shame you!"

Accompanying reporters captured this moment with Casare.

A century later, people would remember them through these records.

After the assembly ended, Fourth Army Chief of Staff Fedor von Bock whispered.

"Do you need Felix to be informed?"

Of course, he knew who Casare's younger brother was and where he was serving.

Victor glanced at his close ally. The latter hesitated for a moment but ultimately shook his head.

"No need. When we return in triumph, we'll naturally see him."

Fedor von Bock patted Victor on the shoulder.

Victor and his entourage boarded the northbound special train—flying was avoided unless necessary. Who could predict if there'd be an accident?

In 1981, the bombing of Saddam during the "Tamuz-1" operation was a typical "white clothes crossing the river" scenario, leading many countries to prefer shooting down passenger planes rather than letting them pass.

If the neighboring United States caught wind of Victor's movements, do you think they wouldn't fire missiles?

Though trains were slow, they were safe; the carriages were all bulletproof, the chefs were personally hired, and even the attendants were Special Service Bureau bodyguards.

Victor gazed out at the scenery, watching February approach—a time when all things began to awaken, with patches of green bursting into life.

He felt somewhat lost in thought.

After the war, it was uncertain how much would remain.

"South Korea has sent troops."

Suddenly, Casare spoke from across him, holding up a newspaper.

Victor frowned, taking on an inquisitive look.

Casare quickly handed over the newspaper.

It was North Korea's "Rodong Sinmun," a rarity in Mexico.

It read:

"According to the North Korean command, South Korea has recently dispatched a special forces group of over 600 personnel, part of the Combat Control Team (CCT) under the Air Force unit."

"Reportedly, these soldiers will train at Fort Hood Army Base in Texas for three months of special operations.

"But in reality, they may participate in future wars in North America."

Casare looked up, staring at Victor.

"The first Asian country to get involved."

Unexpectedly, Victor broke into a grin, and even dimples appeared.

"I used to think my odds for victory in this war were about 60%. With them involved, it's now 80%."

"South Korea has the record of killing a U.S. four-star admiral—such a hard lesson, and the Yanks still don't pay attention. I think they're bound to suffer again."

South Korea?

Assib...

Not exactly famous for combat strength?

If they had robust combat strength, why would one country need 19 garrisons?

Even Afghanistan didn't have that many terrorist organizations.

"Still, this proves the U.S. Military is calling for backup, planning to come down hard on us."

"Let's see whose teeth are sharper or whose bones are harder to bite!"

"General."

Joseph Xiafei ran over from the neighboring carriage, his face filled with anxiety.

"The 136th Infantry Regiment out of Texas fired at our civilians on the Juarez border, resulting in 22 deaths and 17 injuries."

"!!!"

"When did this happen?"

Joseph Xiafei glanced at his watch, "Twenty minutes ago."

Victor slammed the table violently, "This is utterly intolerable!"

"Then fight."

"Release the statement immediately!"

"Boss... shouldn't we wait for the 2nd?"

"Wait for what? The initiative is in our hands now. They fired first—should we wait for them to finish before retaliating?"

Victor glared.

"A nation of addicts, human traffickers, and child smugglers deserves to be taught a lesson."

January 27, 1992.

The war of self-defense against the United States officially began!

...

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