Donald Rumsfeld came out of the Governor's Mansion with a grim face, with the trailing American officials looking as if they had just lost their parents.
It was mainly because Victor's words wounded their pride!
What do you mean "paper tiger"?
Is it just because we lost to you once?
We can fight it out in Africa, it's so much less comfortable to fight right at North America's doorstep.
We swear, there will not be a single Mexican left on the African continent!
"Mr. Special Envoy, may we know what US-Mexico negotiations involved, can any specifics be disclosed?"
An American media reporter approached with microphone in hand, pressing him for answers.
Without a word, Rumsfeld's bodyguards forcefully pushed aside the obstructing media, with the Mexican Police watching from the side.
Americans just have no manners.
Meanwhile, Victor emerged from behind, accompanied by high-level representatives from Northern Mexico, and he was puffing on a pipe.
Gesturing at the cameras trained on him, he flashed a "Churchill" style reverse V-sign.
"Governor, what was the content of the negotiations? Will Mexico bow down to the United States?"
Victor glanced at the person asking such an "abrasive" question—oh,
A San's distinct appearance made him easy to identify, his face resembling one in dire need of a good scrub, almost inciting the urge to erase it with an eraser.
"Victors never need to bow their heads; Mexico's skies have brightened!"
Victor spoke and walked towards the office building, the reporters wanted to follow, but Kennedy gestured to the security personnel who then rushed up to block the journalists.
"General, the intelligence department caught two Slovaks who bought 2 kilograms of explosives on the Black Market, according to them, Americans are too wicked, they wanted to blow them up," Jason Bourne said quietly, "I didn't believe their bullshit, I put some pressure on them. One of them couldn't stand it and confessed to working for the KGB."
Victor's eyebrows shot up when he heard this.
These people were definitely trying to kill Rumsfeld and then cause the US-Mexico negotiations to break down.
Although these go-between traders were betraying their country for profit, there were still plenty of people within the Soviet Union trying to save their country.
If they could provoke a major conflict in North America, the Russian Bear might see a glimmer of hope.
But the Soviets never expected that the Black Market buyer they had arranged to deal with was actually undercover enforcement from Northern Mexico's intelligence department.
Such a Black Market couldn't be regulated; there are those who live for money and those who are willing to die for it too.
If you can't eradicate it, control it.
Basically, all the big shots behind the Black Market in the north are from the Governor's Mansion, earning money while also being the first to get the news.
Hmm… As soon as those three Slovaks left the trading spot, they got pinned right outside the door!
As for whether someone would compete with them for business,
Any criminal activity without the Governor's Mansion's approval was indeed "crime!"
"Keep a good eye on the Americans, don't let anyone intervene. If The Pentagon asks for them, I obviously can't hand over a missile so make sure they're secure."
Just as Victor entered his office and everyone else had left, the newly-promoted Director of Military Foreign Intelligence, Augustin Przybylski, crept inside quietly.
"Are you trying to be sneaky?" Victor couldn't help but laugh.
"Sir, 'Aphrodite' has sent an urgent message; they need our help."
"CIA Director Richard James Curl has taken a keen interest in him lately, constantly investigating him, and he hopes that we can take care of the matter."
Another CIA Director?!
Victor's expression turned excited as he looked at Augustin Przybylski, "Are you confident?"
"Richard has a mistress in the Red-light district who works as a prostitute; every Saturday night she spends time with him, there's our chance."
"A prostitute?!" Victor was visibly surprised.
"Richard has quite severe..." Augustin Przybylski thought for a moment, "cuckold tendencies; he has shared his mistress with others before."
Is this how Yanks play?
"What do you plan to do?"
In Augustin Przybylski's eyes, a shrewd expression twinkled, "I plan to smear some poison on her private parts. When Richard James Curl is indulging, one lick and I guarantee he'll die right on top of her."
Truly, the methods of those in intelligence are dirty.
"Could this be traced back to us?"
"We've extracted a toxin from a South American plant which gets completely absorbed by the bloodstream within 20 minutes, but its potency is 60 times that of a cobra's venom, primarily triggering the heart and causing sudden death!"
Victor patted Augustin Przybylski on the shoulder, unable to suppress a sigh, "You're going to end up in hell."
To Victor's surprise, rather than being perturbed, Augustin seemed fully committed as he loyally stated, "Then I'll go to hell and take out Hades, awaiting the enthronement of His Majesty Victor!"
Well, you're just boasting.
But Victor was pleased.
The burden on your shoulders will only get heavier.
After Donald Rumsfeld returned to his hotel, he called Old Bush on a secure phone to report Victor's demands.
And he couldn't help but feel humiliated, "The Mexican's fist felt like it was swinging at my mouth, yet I am forced to take the blows."
"You've had a tough time," Old Bush consoled him casually before pausing, "What do you think of Victor... as a person?"
"An ambitious man, an opportunist, someone who would wage war the moment he gets the chance, a madman and a madman..."