"Fine, I'll discuss it back at the Official Residence," he said, furrowing his brow and speaking to Chief Secretary Krista Schroeder, "Take care of the following matters for me, no matter the cost."
"I'm not afraid she'll ask for too much, just that she won't ask at all."
Krista Schroeder nodded, about to step out of the car when she suddenly turned around, "Will you come over tonight? I've learned to cook your favorite dish."
The drivers in the front and the bodyguard in the passenger seat pretended not to hear a thing.
Their eyes didn't even flicker.
When a leader speaks, some things are meant to be unheard.
Victor glanced at her, "Work time for business, personal matters in private."
Truly ruthless once the trousers are pulled up.
A man's got to be tough indeed.
Krista Schroeder obediently nodded, stepped out of the car, and after watching it drive off, she entered the hotel.
Nurnisha Kalis was in her room, her brows knitted together.
Suddenly, a knock on the door; she walked over puzzled, opened it, and was taken aback to see Krista Schroeder, "Miss Secretary? What can I do for you?"
"May I come in and talk?"
Though puzzled, Nurnisha Kalis politely nodded and stepped aside, "Please come in."
Once the door was closed behind them, Krista Schroeder got straight to the point.
"Madam, how much for the Head of Drug Control Agency?"
The secretary handed over a check with a smile, "This is yours if you nominate the Governor for Executive Director."
"Miss Secretary! Please do not insult my integrity!" Nurnisha Kalis said sternly, her brow furrowed, "I must ask you to leave with such propositions."
Krista Schroeder smiled, "Perhaps you should take a look."
"Even if it's a large sum of money… it couldn't possibly make me…" Nurnisha Kalis's eyes flicked to the check, and her sentence abruptly stopped!
One, ten, a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand... a hundred thousand...!
Three million US dollars!
Nurnisha Kalis genuinely gasped in shock.
Salaries for United Nations staff aren't issued by the United Nations, but by their individual countries, and each country has a different salary standard.
How much could she possibly earn as Head of whatever sector at the International Narcotics Control Board Secretariat?
Three million US dollars was a sum she could never earn in a lifetime!
Nurnisha Kalis wanted to refuse, but the words just wouldn't come out of her mouth.
About to retire, with a family and kids to consider, this money was enough for a comfortable life in Germany, or even an immigration to the United States.
Her gaze wavered, but her eyes never strayed from the check.
Her morals told her to refuse, but her life circumstances weighed her down.
Is this a test for the officials?
Seeing her struggle, Krista Schroeder promptly stuffed the check into her chest, "Don't worry, there are others."
"Really?" Nurnisha Kalis's words slipped out before she realized their implication and hastily tried to explain, "Uh, I mean... uh."
When a person is falling, they love to drag others down with them. It's like someone with syphilis feeling much better once you tell them you have it too. This is the disgusting part of human nature!
Krista Schroeder waved her hand, "I understand. So, about the Governor becoming the Executive Director of the Drug Enforcement Department..."
"I can nominate him, but I have no say in the final decision. However, if the heads of the other two departments agree, I think there shouldn't be any problems."
"What do they require?"
Krista Schroeder's eyes crinkled with a smile, "Whatever he wants, we can provide!"
"The Governor never fails to reward those who help him."
Meanwhile, Victor hurriedly ran back to the Security Director's building, a temporary office space, as a new Official Residence was under construction.
The location was right on the Tijuana beachfront, offering a clear view of Santiago across the way.
"Hasn't the intelligence department been tracking the CIA's activities in Mexico?" Victor asked, his brow furrowed and his expression far from happy.
Vice Director Augustine Przybylski of the intelligence department, a bald man, was sweating under the heat, his head practically shining. He felt uncomfortable under his boss's interrogation but admitted frankly, "This is our fault for failing to notice."
No excuses; if you tried to give one, Victor would chew you out. But if you didn't, at least the boss might understand that intelligence work was challenging.
There are 140 million people in Mexico!
Who knows what those bastards from the CIA could be disguising themselves as.
Victor entered his office, followed by the deputy director, Augustine Przybylski, who hurriedly closed and locked the door behind them.
"Find out! We must uncover when the CIA got mixed up with drug traffickers." Victor tossed the ashtray to the side, clearly agitated.
Augustine Przybylski sighed with relief, glad just to step aside and not be the focus of ire.
He quickly responded, "Sir, should we notify the United States about this?"
"If you tell a dog owner his pet bites, do you know what his first words would be?"
Victor lit a cigarette, "He'll tell you his dog doesn't bite!"
"Don't panic when things happen. If the owner can't handle it, we'll just have to teach them a lesson."
After taking a drag, he looked out at a 45-degree angle, his gaze fierce, "If the CIA loves playing games so much, we'll kill them, break their hearts a bit. Also, broadcast their photos on a loop on Tijuana's TV stations. Claim they're the killed drug lord. I want to see if they have the face to deny it."