Working as a police officer in Mexico
Chapter 933 - 489: What do you want? What are you looking at!

"Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!!"

In the President's office of the White House, Clinton stared wide-eyed, collapsing into the boss chair, his suit in disarray, a sweat-drenched head.

On the desk in front of him lay a newspaper.

"Mexico Vanguard," with the front-page headline: "Clinton, the US President Hiding in the Sewers!"

The entire article was full of scandalous things. If it were just this, he wouldn't be angry, he could even use legal means to defend his right to a reputation.

But...

The interviewee was Angel Urenia, and the reporter thoughtfully labeled his former identity, just in case the audience didn't know who he was.

This sold out completely!

In just one day, the sales reached as high as 700,000 copies!

Breaking through the traditional media, other Mexican media hurried to catch up, but by then they could only grab scraps.

Meanwhile, journalists in the neighboring United States also shared the story...

Apart from that, TV news and entertainment tabloids joined in, and in an instant...

Fua Visbrooke's name resounded across the land.

In just two days.

It's said that the national TV station in Cuba had started broadcasting it.

Originally, Clinton had barely stabilized his position by playing the emotional card after his wife was killed in an explosion, but now he was teetering again.

He lost control of himself, roaring like a madman in the office...

Richie Miller, the Director of the Special Service, looked at him with a complex expression.

He was in pain...

In fact, Angel being alive was partly his doing, secretly protecting from the shadows, otherwise, wasn't it easy to kill someone without power or influence?

His relationship with Angel was also very good, but sometimes... reality is so frustrating.

"Get someone to take them out, Richie!"

"Angel Urenia is a traitor, he betrayed the United States..."

Hearing this, Richie Miller couldn't help but open his mouth, "Sir, he didn't betray Amer..."

"He betrayed me!"

"I am the United States, I am the government!"

Before Richie Miller could finish, Clinton suddenly interrupted him, shouting angrily.

The Director of the Special Service looked at him in shock...

He had known him for over ten years, always with an elegant appearance. Of course, he'd seen him angry, but never so hysterical, like...

A maddened rabid dog.

This metaphor flashed through his mind.

Clinton pounded on the table with force, his eyes bloodshot, panting heavily, "Get someone to take them both out for me, CIA or FBI..."

Richie Miller seemed to be provoking him, saying, "Both departments suffered major setbacks in Mexico, I fear they temporarily lack the capacity..."

"Then find someone from the black market, 1 million? 2 million? 5 million!"

"I refuse to believe money can't solve this."

"Sir, calm down..."

"I can't calm down!"

Clinton circled around the desk, standing directly in front of Richie Miller, a crazed look in his eyes, "I struggled for decades to reach this position, I can't lose, if I lose, I have nothing left, I haven't even made money for the capitalists. If I'm gone, will they let me go?"

"I will suddenly fall ill tomorrow!"

As he spoke, he seemed scared, actually... actually started to cry.

This left Richie Miller somewhat at a loss.

Clinton grabbed his hand, "Help me, Richie, right now I only have you, help me, based on our long relationship, help me, help me."

Crying and snotting.

In the past, Richie Miller might have felt some guilt, but ever since abandoning Angel, his feelings towards Clinton were only fear...

Friend?

Companion?

Even a lover?

They were all dispensable to him.

If he could abandon them, what about the time when he might abandon himself?

If I help you find someone to take him out, if it fails, or things blow up, won't you just push me out?

Some things, once done, people remember them!

Richie Miller wasn't a fool, he withdrew his hand, looked into Clinton's eyes, and shook his head, "The Special Service has some work, I have to go first, calm down, sir, God will bless you."

He finished, and left the office amidst the other's shocked and angry gaze.

Oh, and he didn't forget to close the door on his way out.

Clinton was so angry... trembling, he grabbed the documents on the desk and threw them on the ground, trying to flip the table, but it was heavy, how could he muster such strength...

All strength used on the intern.

"Bastard! Bastard!!"

He roared in the office, trembling as he climbed up, no, he couldn't just give up, he needed to find someone to clarify, these were all slanders.

He wanted to make a call, but looking at the broken phone line, he angrily stomped the phone with his foot, cursing loudly.

Suddenly...

His pupils shrank, his whole body starting to break into a cold sweat, trembling all over.

Clinton tremblingly pulled open the drawer, and at the very bottom layer was a paper bag package, showing a lion stepping on both sides of the earth, but unlike the "Double Lion Stepping on Earth" from the Golden Triangle, it was colorful, and the lion had wings.

Beside it were the words: "Hell No.2!"

Ye Zhenli's damn new drug creation, No.1 circulated globally, while No.2 targeted chiefly the wealthy and powerful.

Since the US-Mexico War started, this guy initially wanted to cause trouble too, but...

The soldiers he found couldn't beat the local National Guard, instead almost got annihilated. No matter how arrogant Ye Zhenli was, you're just holding a rifle, while they have already installed small rapid-fire cannons on Humvees.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.