Working as a police officer in Mexico
Chapter 891 - 471: Fake!!!!

"Beep, beep, beep..."

Standing at the entrance to the ICU in Washington, the faint sound could be heard. A group of people stood there, weary and fatigued, while others showed faces filled with disappointment.

Bang~

The door opened...

A doctor emerged.

Chief of Staff Angel Urenia and personal attendant Lee Miller immediately moved forward.

"Professor Bartolomeo, how is he?"

This was a specialist from the Mayo Clinic, a world-famous authority on cardiovascular health.

"Mr. Clinton's bleeding point is very small, and given that he's already in the hospital, there's no major issue. It won't affect his life expectancy."

Angel Urenia let out a sigh of relief. Before he could speak, someone asked anxiously:

"Then... then can he move?"

Angel turned his head to glance. The person speaking was a policy advisor from the campaign team who was visibly distressed.

He was also a board member of a pharmaceutical company.

After all...

As a businessman himself, the reason he had been selected to serve as Clinton's policy advisor was due to hopes that Clinton would benefit him in the future. In turn, he'd leveraged his own power to secure votes for Clinton, even providing campaign funding.

If Clinton couldn't move, couldn't speak, then wouldn't all his efforts have been wasted?

Concern?

His only concern was his own interests!

Professor Bartolomeo nodded, "There's no major problem, but precautions must be taken. Absolutely no excessive emotional fluctuations—otherwise, there's a risk of massive bleeding, leading to serious consequences."

He's not dead?

Not dead? That's good enough!

If he's not dead, he can continue to provide services for pharmaceutical companies, military-industrial enterprises, and healthcare insurance firms.

Clinton's rise to power had cost these people an exorbitant price.

Angel Urenia sighed, feeling a pang of sorrow—no one truly cared about Clinton's life or death.

He looked at the doctor. "What's his mental state now? Is he conscious? Can we go in and see him?"

"You can go in, but try not to stay too long."

"Understood!"

The group, led by Angel Urenia, put on sterile clothing and entered the room.

The President, after all, was the President. He had his own private isolation ward.

"William, William."

Angel gently pushed Clinton's shoulder. Clinton's cheeks appeared unnaturally thin. He opened his eyes, scanning everyone with an exhausted look.

"US-Mexico..."

"What did you say?"

Angel Urenia leaned his ear closer.

"The US-Mexico War must stop!" Clinton said hoarsely.

!!!

Who would have thought that the first sentence he'd utter upon waking would be an act of "surrender"?

Everyone in the room heard it. They exchanged glances.

Snap~

Clinton grabbed Angel's wrist, lifting his head despite the respirator still attached to his nostrils. His eyes widened, "The United States... has lost its bridgehead. The troops have no morale, and the people's support is gone. This war is already lost..."

"Cough, cough, cough..."

"We can't keep fighting! Seek peace, seek peace! Resolve internal issues first, then strike back decisively!"

He spoke laboriously, his breathing heavy.

It seemed Clinton wasn't foolish after all—his stance now completely contradicted the arrogant criticisms and promises he had made about victoriously defeating Victor during the campaign.

Campaign words are campaign words...

Reality is reality.

Now that he had become President, wouldn't it be better to rake in some money, secure benefits for himself, hand out perks to his allies, and step down to take a cushy position at a charitable organization?

Earn a tidy sum annually in retirement—wasn't that better?

But now...

He realized that Victor was like a rabid wolf. If he continued to provoke recklessly, he'd be devoured entirely—and America would lose even more!

After seeking peace, Clinton planned to address the impact of the Red Shoes Club first, delivering strong punishment by killing a few key figures. Then he'd tackle the harm Eisenhower had done to veterans and demand funds from Congress to pay salaries.

A two-pronged approach. Once the United States achieved internal stability, they'd face off against Mexico decisively!

North America—let's see who's the real boss.

That was Clinton's thinking.

There was a hint of... calculated perseverance in his approach.

But the members of the campaign team standing by his bedside glanced at each other.

"The Northrop Company won't agree."

"The Lockheed Company won't agree."

"The Military Industrial Complex wants this war."

The external affairs coordinator for the campaign team shook his head, glancing left and right, his face hesitant, and said subtly, "The United States is nothing compared to the US Dollar!"

Clinton's face twisted in anger, "Without the United States, the US Dollar would be no better than toilet paper—don't they understand that?"

He shouted, gasping for air. Angel Urenia quickly pressed his hand gently against Clinton's chest.

At this moment, there was none of the rumored "gentlemanly" demeanor attributed to him.

His carefully crafted image had crumbled completely in front of his inner circle.

Shouted at, the external affairs coordinator showed no sign of anger and continued muttering to himself.

"A President who fails to deliver benefits for them, or worse, disrupts their interests... will disappear—physically disappear."

Clinton's pupils contracted.

Most of the campaign team members were his confidants, which is why they dared speak so bluntly.

"Voluntary peace talks and forced peace talks are not the same..." Clinton said in a mournful tone.

"I don't think Mexico can defeat the United States. During World War II, Japan attacked Pearl Harbor and toppled Asia. But history shows that as soon as the United States entered the war, victory was ours!"

A tall man with sharp eyes spoke.

He was the military advisor on Clinton's campaign team, responsible for crafting the military talking points used to coax votes. Once Clinton took office, he was slated for a position in The Pentagon.

Seeing everyone turn to look at him, he flashed a grin and spread his hands, "Unless Mexico has some sort of X deterrent—but clearly, that's impossible, hahahaha."