Working as a police officer in Mexico

"That's strange, could these weapons somehow drift out from the sea?! If one day fission weapons and fusion weapons appeared, who would have the ultimate say in North America?"

The old man slapped the table unhappily, "The CIA can eat shit, the FBI can drink urine, and yet they claim to be the strongest intelligence organizations in the world. I think they're just a bunch of big fools; it's only a matter of time before they're all disbanded."

The secretary's face turned pale upon hearing this and nearly wet himself, he hurriedly ran out to close the door, placed his finger on his lips, and said nervously, "Defense Minister, this... this shouldn't be said."

The last person who expressed dissatisfaction with the CIA was already lying dead.

They can't deal with Victor, do you really think they can't deal with an old man like you?

Richard Bruce Cheney snorted coldly, but he stopped ranting about the two giants. Yet neither of them noticed the wooden bird in the grandfather clock behind them, its eyes flickering slightly.

As the secretary suffered through the moment, the phone on the table rang.

"Hello!" the old man answered irritably.

The secretary watched carefully; the explosive expression on the other side calmed down immediately, "Alright, I'm coming."

After hanging up the phone, Richard stood up, "Mr. President has awakened, and he wants to see me."

The secretary was stunned, but then overjoyed, feeling as if he finally had a lifeline, he quickly said, "Then you must go!"

The Defense Minister nodded, picked up his coat, and left with a noticeably lighter and more tranquil step.

He had been gone less than a minute when the phone rang urgently again.

The secretary answered; it was the Presidential office.

"James Dan Quayle is looking for the Defense Minister? He's not here; he went to see Mr. Bush."

…

"Bang!!"

James Dan Quayle kicked the desk in the office, his face darkening, his mouth constantly cursing someone's mother.

He was very... chilled to the bone!

He had been acting president for a few months, after Old Bush had a major incident, patching things up, stabilizing people in Parliament, coordinating competition between the two parties, actively maintaining balance externally.

But what then?

A spare tire is always just a spare tire, and those bastards are all out for themselves!

After a phone call from Bush in the hospital ward, they all ran off, even the office manager had gone, he suddenly felt... so lonely.

He felt like he had been abandoned.

Sitting on the floor, James Dan Quayle's dissatisfaction grew. Having tasted power, letting go was now difficult for him, he squinted his eyes, no one could tell what he was actually thinking.

But...

The wind outside scattered everything.

Whoosh...

The sky suddenly poured down heavy rain.

Richard Bruce Cheney drove his old clunker to the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center, and after undergoing a dozen checks, he finally saw the long-unseen Old Bush.

He was very weak.

But... still alive.

The two had spent decades together, their families knew each other well, and they had a good relationship. He walked over, took Old Bush's hand, "Buddy, I'm here."

Old Bush's gaze was weak as he nodded slightly and smiled, opening his mouth, Richard Bruce Cheney didn't hear clearly the first time, then he leaned closer and finally understood.

"CIA... has betrayed us!"

Richard's eyes widened dramatically, almost bulging out!

He sat like a statue.

His pupils contracted, staring at Old Bush, his hand still held by him, he subconsciously tried to pull away, but the injured man held on unexpectedly strong, his gaze fixed on him.

Richard, although dissatisfied with the CIA, didn't mean he wanted to stand on the opposition!

Lightning struck outside.

Illuminating his face...

Lifeless.

The sudden torrential rain swept across all of North America.

The safety line of Mexico's reservoirs kept rising.

And during this time...

Was the most chaotic.

At the 12th Cavalry Regiment, Barry Thomas anxiously paced back and forth in the command post, looked at his watch; the Chief of Staff had been gone for over an hour, why hadn't he returned yet.

Tick tock tick...

As he was gripped by anxiety, a familiar figure rushed into the doorway, the drenched Chief of Staff entered somewhat disheveled, completely soaked, followed by a... stranger lieutenant?

"How are things?"

Barry Thomas's eyes brightened, he rushed to support him asking, eyes always glancing at the other man.

Really…

Not even letting him drink a sip of water.

"Commander, this is Lieutenant Felik from the Northern Army, he's in charge of coordinating with us." The Chief of Staff quickly introduced, winking at his boss.

Barry Thomas, who had worked with him for many years, instantly understood.

This lieutenant was definitely no ordinary man!

"The division headquarters is pleased to hear of your willingness to join us and also thinks that the Popovich Government is regressive, letting go of upright men like you and instead letting drug traffickers seize high positions, which is shameful. Longmeier Division Commander has ruled to apply to the headquarters to let you continue as the commander, but in the upcoming battles, you need not be on the front lines, rest in the rear."

"The First Republic is a country of upright Mexicans, your future is definitely not limited to just a commander."

This was almost an explicit hint.

Mexico actually had many forces that had begun combating drugs before, like the Navy, and they weren't faring well now either. Victor, being the kind of person he was, wouldn't annihilate these men but thought of incorporating them.

At the very least, it would earn a good reputation.

As for wanting more power?

That was unlikely.

"Alright!"

Barry Thomas felt relieved after hearing this, he was a straightforward man too, picked up the AK47 from the table, "Go! Gather men! Let's surround them now, delay breeds trouble."