Working as a police officer in Mexico

"From now on, this will be your office. For any needs, you can dial 008 on the landline to reach the logistics department. This phone is directly connected to the General's office," Victor's secretary, Traudl Junge, said, pointing to several phones on the desk.

Angel Urena glanced around. The area was about 60 square meters, with a 40-square-meter office area and a 20-square-meter rest area.

It was also equipped with a computer, air conditioning, and a bookcase filled with world-famous books. The Mexican flag was hung on the wall.

Of course, he was very satisfied.

This was almost twice the size of Clinton's presidential office.

"Doesn't communism require everything to be confiscated?"

Traudl Junge raised an eyebrow upon hearing this, and said in a very academic tone, "Ideology is never about blindly following the book. Mexico has its own national conditions. Rest assured, sir, the property rights of your villa still belong to the state."

Angel Urena gave a slightly embarrassed chuckle.

Victor also understood that no matter what the ideology, it could never be an anarchic state, and humans themselves are "selfish" beings.

They would form cliques and compare themselves to each other. You have to let the vested interests who follow you feel a slight difference.

Otherwise...

Rely purely on faith to work?

Of course, some do, but unfortunately, that's impossible in Mexico.

Cough cough cough...

Of course, this was a work requirement.

After Secretary Traudl Junge left, Angel plopped down on the soft chair. He turned his head. The floor-to-ceiling window behind him was huge, overlooking half of Mexico City.

His eyes were gloomy, filled with madness.

Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the unblinking expressions of his dead wife and children.

"Clinton, I'm here!"

Meanwhile, in the General's office above him.

Casarez was still nagging him, "Boss, giving such an important position to an American... If he has any ulterior motives, the loss to us would be great."

Victor reached out and pressed down, signaling him to calm down, "It's the American system that's bad, not the American people. We can't push all Americans to the opposite side. Since someone is willing to join us, we should of course give them unconditional trust."

"As for betrayal?"

Victor paused and looked at the Director of the Mexican News Agency, Agustin Probert, sitting next to him, "If his wife and children were persecuted to death, and he could still calmly work as a spy here, then I have nothing to say."

Liu Bang-style talents are rare, otherwise, why would he be Emperor Gaozu of Han?

Casarez wanted to refute, but the words were on his lips, and he really didn't know what to say.

"Don't worry, he's a lone wolf. All the people around him are our own. We'll nip any signs in the bud. Isn't that easy? A grasshopper can't jump high. However, I'm quite curious about the human experiments he mentioned. Do we have any information about that?"

He turned his head to ask Agustin.

The latter quickly stood up.

"Sit down, sit down and talk."

Agustin sat upright, frowning, "Yes, but no evidence, including the 'Tuskegee Syphilis Study' targeting African Americans. Experiments were once conducted in Botswana, Africa, but we have no substantive evidence. However, Americans have deployed many laboratories around the world..."

"Sure enough, Americans are like the Japanese, all bastards!"

Casarez gritted his teeth beside him.

Victor glanced at him. This guy was a bit racist.

However, that was a minor issue.

Victor was too.

"After Angel's article is written, use public opinion to find a way to promote it. By the way, doesn't Mexican TV have a variety show? What's it called?"

"'Entering America'." Fatty Casarez said from the side.

"Yes, let him be on the next episode!"

"We must build a good stage for our new friend. Now it's time to watch his performance."

"Entering America" is a very popular show with approximately 16 million viewers across Mexico...

It started in 1991 on Tijuana TV, focusing on breaking the American filter.

Including...

The so-called universal healthcare in the United States requires appointments. By the time a heart patient gets an appointment, they'll be reincarnated.

Also, the security problems caused by widespread racial discrimination, violent law enforcement by American police, and so on.

It is considered the world's first "variety show" targeting the removal of the American filter.

Later, after the Northern Army entered Mexico City and Victor became the legitimate leader, the variety show was transferred from the local station to the national station, and the ratings exploded.

Casarez responded, saying hello would be enough.

Victor leaned back slightly in his chair, squinting, not knowing what he was thinking. He suddenly said:

"What do you think about us researching viruses too?"

Before they could speak, he shook his head, "No, no, no, we are not like the Americans. We are conducting legitimate research for the health of human civilization."

Which law is legitimate?

Once I sign it, you'll know which law it is.

Thinking like that removes the moral obstacle, right?

Casarez and Agustin Probert exchanged glances.

The boss doesn't want to suffer any losses.

If the other side starts a virus war, believe that he would dare to drop it on densely populated areas such as Washington and San Francisco. Whatever the Americans do, he will do, even if it means mutually assured destruction.

"Boss, should we wait until Angel is on the variety show before we talk about it?"

"Okay, there's no rush. I was just saying it casually," Victor said with a smile.

Casarez took a deep breath in his heart.

Boss, don't fart easily. One fart from you, and we'll be working our asses off!

...

May 18th, a very ordinary day.

17 Asist Street, Mexico City. The buildings here are relatively... old, no, no, they should be said to have a heavy sense of history. Green moss can be seen climbing on the walls.

But this is the location of the famous newspaper, "The Mexican Vanguard".

The reporters of this newspaper are relatively reckless.

It's a private enterprise.

But during the Mexican-American War, they were basically on the front line. After San Diego was breached, the entrances and exits should have been sealed off to protect local residents and prevent enemy counterattacks.

But the Vanguard rushed up while some of the gun battles were still going on.

The interview vehicle ran over a landmine...

Three died and two were seriously injured.

Logically speaking, that should have been enough, but the boss was reckless. He paid out all the compensation without missing a cent and directly offered a large sum of money to get people to continue going. There are always brave men under heavy reward.

"The Mexican Vanguard" can always get first-hand information.

There's no other way...

Who can be as reckless as them?

Relying on ruthlessness, they have made a name for themselves in the increasingly tense "paper media" era.

At this time, the first floor was sparsely populated...

Most of the reporters were out covering news.

Meanwhile, the newly graduated news assistant, Froy Westbrook, yawned, resting his left hand on his chin and clicking the mouse. His computer showed the "Mexican Government Official Website".

What he had to do every day was to find news on it!

Assistant, assistant...

The work isn't human.

He casually scrolled down and saw a new appointment below.

"Angel Urena is hereby appointed as the Plenipotentiary Representative for North American Affairs!"

His mouse had already scrolled down, but the words "North America" and the name in front made him curious.

He had never heard of this person before.

He clicked to see.

He saw a man's photo, wearing a tie, looking meticulous, but his downward-sloping eyes made people shudder at a glance, making him look like a ruthless person!

Below was his resume.

Fauo Westbrook looked at it carefully, and suddenly seemed to see something, and exclaimed.

Several colleagues working at the table raised their heads.

A fat man mumbled, "What's wrong? Is it time for lunch?"

Immediately afterward, his eyes widened as he saw a gust of wind "blow" past him, and that "wind" was also shouting:

"Supervisor! Big news! Big news!!!"

Bang!

The supervisor's door was kicked open, and the fat man could see his boss, who was working inside, shiver and almost fall off his chair.

"Fauo Westbrook!!!" The supervisor roared in the office.

The colleagues outside shrank their heads in fright, but still carefully looked up.

Full of curiosity, big news?

What big news could there be?

Did the American president die again?

Uh?

Why use 'again'?

Five minutes later...

Fauo Westbrook told his supervisor the news he had found. The supervisor, who was originally furious, hurriedly opened the webpage and indeed found that photo. When he saw Angel Urena's resume, his eyes lit up.

"Supervisor, isn't it? We have to send it out before all our competitors."

"Yes, yes, but just this one piece of news..." The supervisor hesitated.

"This is super, super big news. We can use the entire page. The American president's chief of staff is in charge of North American affairs in Mexico. There must be a deep story here. We can apply to interview him."

"Supervisor, let me go!"

Fauo Westbrook patted his chest.

"You? Can you do it?" The supervisor looked at him with some suspicion. If it weren't for his good grades and the government's support for companies recruiting college students, he really wouldn't have hired him.

"Mexico Pioneer" wanted experienced veterans.

They recruited 10 interns, but in the end, only Fauo Westbrook survived the internship for various reasons and became a reporter assistant.

"Trust me, supervisor."

"But if we apply for an interview, it will take at least two days. It will be too late." The supervisor frowned. Sometimes he was decisive, but sometimes he thought too much.

Fauo Westbrook frowned. He didn't want this opportunity to slip away from him. He hesitated for a moment, "Leave it to me."

"You?"

"How will you manage it? Do you have someone in the National Palace? Or do you know this Angel Urena?"

"Erich Ludendorff is my brother-in-law."

"What Erich... Gah?!"

The supervisor suddenly raised his head, staring wide-eyed.

As news professionals, they certainly knew the big shots in Mexico. That was the Chief of the Army, a very important person.

The office was silent for a moment.

Immediately afterward, Fauo Westbrook saw the supervisor's ugly face, like Franklin's, force a smile, stand up, and say in a tone with several notes, "Sit, sit, don't stand."

"Supervisor, no need. Time is the most precious thing now. Just leave it to me."

"Okay, I believe in you, Fauo. You will definitely be the next winner of the 'Mexico Hernandez Award'. Call me anytime for anything you need. I guarantee to give you my full support."

He nodded happily, "Thank you, supervisor."

He hurriedly opened the door and ran out. The boss just breathed a sigh of relief and was about to sit down when he saw him run back in. He stood up straight, "Supervisor, please don't tell anyone about my identity."

"No problem!" The supervisor said with a smile.

After Fauo Westbrook left contentedly, he wiped his forehead.

These days, the people with connections...

Are they all relying on themselves?

Really...

Young people.

Fauo Westbrook contacted Angel through Ludendorff. Although they were not in the same department, the former was an old-timer, and the Americans still gave him face.

The two met at a "coffee shop" outside the National Palace.

Well...

This coffee shop was state-owned.

It should be said that the two streets next to the National Palace were state-owned, in order to prevent people from causing trouble here, and even if there were explosives, there would be a buffer distance.

Besides...

Business was good.

This street was often full.

On the second floor of the Coffee Wood House, Fauo Westbrook met Angel Urena. The other party was looking into the distance. Hearing footsteps, he turned his head, saw the camera he was holding, and stood up with a smile, saying in a very gentle tone, "You must be Westbrook. Nice to meet you."

Fauo hurriedly reached out his hand, "Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me."

Angel smiled, "I also need someone to spread my voice."

"Please sit down."

The two sat face to face. Looking at the iced Americano in front of him, Fauo was stunned.

"I ordered you a cup of coffee. I hope you like it."

"Of course, I love iced Americanos the most."

He said, taking a sip and pointing to the camera in his hand, "Can we start?"

Seeing the other party nod in agreement, he adjusted the camera and straightened the lens.

"Hello, Mr. Angel Urena. I am honored that you can accept my interview..."

Fauo Westbrook entered the state, holding a pen in his hand, "Can I ask, why did you come from the United States to Mexico to be in charge of North American affairs?"

"Simple, I was betrayed."

"After the US-Mexico war..."

The other party told him what had happened to him, and Fauo was increasingly shocked as he listened. His wife was dead, and he was living like a dog.

"I actually know very well that it wasn't extreme nationalists who killed my wife, but Clinton. He didn't want me to live because he abandoned me. He was afraid I would reveal his secrets."

"Secrets? Can you say what they are?"

"In 1989, Clinton was with the Whitewater Development Corporation. This company also had money laundering activities, and you should also know that when they were later accused, the witnesses, the Secretary of Commerce, and his advisors all died one after another."

It seemed like there was such a thing.

"Clinton had people kill them."

"!!!!!" Fauo Westbrook's eyes widened.

"Before he became president, he was able to have so much power. In addition to the influence of his family, there is also..."

"What?"

Angel Urena smiled somewhat... strangely.

"He is a member of the American high-level HQ (abbreviation) club."

Crap!

Is this something I can hear?

"Clinton is Yang X. He needs to use drugs to show himself, and also, his wife gave birth to several illegitimate children for him. Don't you think Chelsea Victoria doesn't look like him at all?"

"When he was the governor of Arkansas, he once asked me to find women for him. Of course, these are all personal style issues."

"His biggest secret is that he is pursuing immortality. He is an honorary member of many evil X organizations in the United States. He... personally killed 4 young girls, hoping to get their 'energy'?"

"Energy? What is that?"

"Who knows what that is? Maybe his head is full of shit."

Angel Urena leaned forward, "Don't you think it's wonderful?"

"Hahahaha, the Americans elected an evil X disciple as president. The United States is destined to perish. The fate of North America is in Mexico, in Victor, in the hands of thousands of people."

......