Working as a police officer in Mexico

The Frenchman walked out of the National Palace.

He glanced back...

His eyes undisguisedly showing disdain for Arturo Desena.

"Boss, are we really going to work with them?"

The subordinate standing beside asked in a low voice, hesitated for a moment, his expression somewhat conflicted, like a chrysanthemum, "Mexicans are not easy to deal with."

The Frenchman's face darkened, squinting his eyes, "And Frenchmen are easy to deal with, huh?"

"We're protecting our interests, Mark, you must know that if we establish a foothold in Haiti, the straight-line distance between Florida and Haiti is about 700 kilometers, and it can completely become our enclave."

He paused for a moment, "Or in other words, we can threaten the United States here!"

Nobody wants to be the underling, especially the self-proclaimed "French Empire," the French, they have ambitions too, though they were beaten badly in WWII, they also have grand aspirations.

To make France great again.

Just like Europe respects Napoleon.

"North America is like a rotting piece of meat, Mexico will stir it up, anyone can come and take a bite, if we don't act proactively, tomorrow Haiti might belong to the United Kingdom, Spain, and we won't even get a sip of the soup."

The subordinate appeared enlightened, realizing there were so many nuances involved.

"What if Arturo Desena is unwilling to cooperate?"

"Then find someone to take him out, isn't this the specialty of (DGSE)?"

The subordinate actually wanted to laugh after asking the question. Who are we?

"The Crownless King!"

Belonging to the Directorate-General for External Security (DGSE), mainly active in Africa, because the French colonized there a lot, this department is responsible for maintaining France's overseas interests.

If the president in power doesn't follow France, then find a way to topple you, sorry...

Like Chad's Engarta Francois Tombabay, and the notorious "Tyrant" Jean-Bedel Bokassa, disobedient? Then you get taken out, just like... killing a disobedient dog.

"Let's go, maybe we can write a report to the boss,"

The French representative said with a smile...

And took out a cigarette from his coat pocket, moodily got into the somewhat old Citroen, hmm...

The French government is not having an easy time either.

By a window on the third floor, a pair of eyes was staring at them, Arturo Desena was somewhat unwilling.

"Why does everyone have to be a dog! I want to be a man!"

The confidant behind did not dare to breathe heavily.

Who wants to? In Mexico, he was crushed, all his hard work gone to waste, and in Haiti, he always felt uneasy, surrounded by the sea...

The atmosphere in the office was a bit lost when the phone on the table rang.

The subordinate looked at Arturo, softly asked, "Boss, do you want to answer?"

He had been out for a long time, Mexico called almost every day, annoying him to death, but he used excuses to delay, everyone still thought he was in Colombia.

Arturo Desena did not speak, but when the phone rang and automatically hung up, it was like an urgent call...

He finally couldn't hold back, turned around and picked up the phone, pressed hard, "Damn it..."

The curse didn't leave his mouth and Endric Vinicius, the "Deputy Defense Minister" and "Minister of Foreign Affairs" of the Southern Government was cursing loudly on the other end, "Arturo, you bastard, you ran away? You bastard left without telling me!"

"You piece of trash from rural Durango State, your mother is a whore to give birth to you looking like this, you're just a dog hiding in a rat hole..."

Arturo Desena turned red, eyes filled with blood.

"F*** you, may you die out there! Bastard!" He didn't wait for the other to speak, immediately hung up.

Listening to the busy signal, a strong phlegm was stuck in his chest.

"¡joder! (Shit!)"

Arturo Desena slammed the phone in his hand forcefully to the ground, leaning on the table with both hands, his chest heaving rapidly, scaring the subordinate to a big jump, won't he drop dead here.

Although he really wanted to pull the opponent over to shoot, he was, after all, an "old cunning fox," still rational.

Curse if you want, just curse!

Let's see if you can still run fast now.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, adjusted for a few minutes, opened his eyes, "Don't worry about him, have you contacted Ye Zhenli?"

"Not...not yet."

"Then roll over and contact him, you idiot, what are you standing here for? Ready to eat? Go contact him!"

The subordinate responded quickly and ran out in a hurry.

After the door closed, Arturo Desena found his hands trembling, unconsciously, his left hand grabbed his right hand, found the trembling didn't decrease, instead increased.

His face changed suddenly!

Thinking about his deceased father's illness when he was alive!

Could he be so unlucky?

...

Meanwhile, on the Yucatan Peninsula.

It had already been chaotic!

Because no one knows who spread it, Arturo Desena and Los Zetas had abandoned Mexico, they all fled to Haiti to become high officials!

This instantly exploded the dozens of big and small drug traffickers and gangs relying on them to survive!

I haven't even acted, and the boss ran away first?

The Knights Templar Cartel, notorious for "torture-killing," started to boil, and its 300-plus armed personnel stormed the Southern Alliance National Bank in Yucatan, looting 16 Million US dollars inside, then killing 42 people on the spot, announcing their secession!

This was like putting water in a hot oil pot, completely going off.