Working as a police officer in Mexico
Chapter 863 - 462: Robert: Why Didn't Anyone Tell Me!!!

Robert Gates' trembling hands gripped the document as his eyes, bloodshot and wild, stared at the paper. His breathing was ragged.

The staff officer standing nearby feared he might... die of rage!

BANG!

With a deafening crash, the Defense Minister slammed the combat report onto the table. He was like a lion whose mane had been set ablaze. "Bastards! Why wasn't I informed of the airstrike operation?"

Sitting across from him, Air Force Commander Gottfried Wisbrook exchanged a nervous glance with Army Commander Bernhard Hawkins, whose face was as dark as a thundercloud.

????

"Guards!" Robert shouted toward the door. Two guards stormed into the room, and Robert pointed at Gottfried. "Strip him of his rank, lock him up, and once the war is over, send him to a military tribunal!"

!!!

Bernhard Hawkins arched an eyebrow. The Air Force Commander was one of his key allies in undermining Robert—how could he allow him to be dismissed so easily?

Bernhard immediately stood up. "I..."

BAM!

An ashtray landed with a loud thud in front of him, startling him enough that his eyes widened in shock...

"Shut your mouth! Bernhard, I am the Defense Minister! You worthless piece of garbage, stand aside!"

The entire office was filled with Robert's roaring fury. Everyone else fell silent in seconds.

The lower-ranking staff officer was shaking so badly his legs nearly gave out.

Bernhard Hawkins' face was as black as coal. Being called worthless to his face...

Who could bear it?

He was the Army Commander, after all!

"What's the matter? You can't accept being called a worthless piece of trash?"

Robert, clearly out of control today, stormed around his desk and marched straight up to Bernhard. He was shorter than Bernhard, so his head barely reached Bernhard's chin.

Looking up, Robert berated him furiously, "Do you want to rebel? Or are you thinking of defecting to Mexico?"

"N-No…" Those words struck Bernhard Hawkins like a bolt of lightning, and he reflexively denied it.

Impossible!

Born as an American soul… dying as an American bastard...

"Hasn't your commanding officer ever taught you to follow orders?!"

Robert's spit flew everywhere, giving Bernhard an unsolicited face wash.

The other senior officers standing to the side remained silent, their faces tinged with unease.

Bernhard Hawkins was notorious for his explosive temper, and everyone was worried he might lose control and punch Robert.

Fortunately, the Army Commander managed to keep his anger in check.

"Yes, sir!" he shouted as if venting his frustration.

"Get out!"

"Yes!"

The veins on Bernhard Hawkins' face nearly burst as he roared his response, did an about-face, and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him with such force that the ceiling plaster cracked and fell. It was a clear display of his displeasure.

But there was nothing he could do. Rank crushes all.

Robert Gates' gaze turned cold and piercing as he looked at the now defeated Navy Commander. Waving his hand, he commanded, "Take him away!"

Two guards stepped forward, removed the Navy Commander's insignia, and escorted him out.

"The rest of you, leave. Brown, stay."

The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff nodded, sat down in a chair, and waited for everyone else to leave.

Robert grabbed a bottle of water from his desk and gulped it down. He had a particular quirk—he only ever drank bottled water.

"Someone must be held accountable for this incident. I will report to the President and initiate a formal inquiry. Gottfried Wisbrook must face punishment!"

Brown Weiss nodded. "I agree. But I must say, Robert, in times of war, it's better to suppress certain matters when possible. Excessive punishment of command officers could lead to internal discord."

This remark only further fueled Robert Gates' fury. "In times of war, I should have executed him on the spot!"

"His West Point recommendation letter was signed by Douglas MacArthur. His uncle is a military adviser to President Nixon. His grandfather was a close friend of Roosevelt…" Brown Weiss softly recited the intricate web of connections.

Robert, who had been brimming with rage, went silent immediately upon hearing those names.

This was yet another typical example of a U.S. military aristocrat.

"I hate nepotism!" Robert growled through clenched teeth.

The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff glanced up at him but said nothing.

No, you don't just hate nepotism—you hate that you aren't one of the privileged.

In a world of power, without connections, where could you even go?

America, the great human melting pot—some people say. Oh, even a slave could become President, they'd cry.

Don't kid yourself...

Power flows only through bloodlines and sex.

"Find an excuse to bury this issue as much as possible, Robert. If it ends up becoming a major scandal, it'll reflect worst on you." Brown Weiss clapped him on the shoulder and left the room.

"F***!!!"

Robert kicked the chair in front of him, flipping it over in a fit of rage.

The closer you get to Spirit Mountain, the deeper the monsters' backgrounds run. The only ones dying are those with no connections at the top.

Robert?

Ha.

Many privately referred to him as "the bamboo craftsman's son."

As Brown Weiss walked out, he heard crashing and smashing sounds coming from inside. He shook his head.

Lifting his gaze at the door, he caught sight of Army Commander Bernhard Hawkins standing there, smoking a cigarette.

The two exchanged glances without speaking, yet communicating everything in silence.

Bernhard flicked his cigarette butt onto the ground, his utter lack of decorum on full display...

He walked away without looking back. On the floor below, he encountered a group of fellow military officials, all waiting for him like loyal subordinates receiving their leader.

"Isn't Robert heading to the front line soon?"

"Let him die there!"

The group exchanged glances, their Adam's apples bobbing nervously. "How are we going to pull this off?"

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