"Do you know why I completely left the field open, allowing those people to leave Mexico?"
In the office, Victor sat with his arms crossed, looking at his confidants before him.
There was no need for special introductions when it came to Casare and Kennedy; Horatio Herbert Kitchener was now officially appointed as the Chief of Staff of the Northern Army, in charge of the General Staff and Operations Command.
Promoted to Major General.
The speed of this promotion was even faster than an Indian rocket explosion.
He also became the second General in the army, besides Kennedy!
Oh, and Rudendorf got his wish to become the Deputy Chief of Staff, with the rank of Colonel.
With the recovery of the north plan underway, everyone was happy.
Except for those sanctimonious bitches in Europe and America, everyone else was very pleased.
Upon hearing Victor's question, the few men glanced at each other.
They all smartly closed their mouths, eagerly looking at the boss.
"A bunch of drug-related personnel, the first thing they think about is not how to earn money legitimately for their drugs, but crime. You see, it won't take long before American police will be incredibly busy."
"Secondly, there will always be people who don't like drug traffickers. America is also a country with widespread gun ownership; when the rednecks clash with these foreigners, the best-case scenario is that it escalates into a riot!"
"As long as the Americans are at their wits' end, they will understand we were right."
Victor couldn't help but click his tongue twice and take a few gulps of tea from the cup on his desk as he thought about that beautiful sight.
"The most important point is that I am now the Head of the Drug Enforcement Department. If drugs in the US spiral out of control, would it not be my duty to help wage a war on drugs?"
The expressions on Casare and the others were like: ｯ!!!∑q|ﾟДﾟ|pﾜｵｫ!!!(ﾟﾛﾟ屮)屮(@д@)/!!
Boss, you're really serious about this.
But millions of drug traffickers gathered together...
They're sure to unleash a tremendous force.
To make the whole of America bloom with 'that' flower, to infuriate the rednecks to death.
"What we need to do now is focus on the reconstruction of Juarez and Guadalajara, as well as further militarize those areas, uprooting the local cancerous drug syndicates and corporations, especially the assets of the United Kingdom, the United States, and Spain, and ensure the basic rights of the local poor. I don't want to hear about anyone starving or freezing to death this winter. Let Rudendorf take charge in Guadalajara, and Joseph Xiafei in Juarez!"
"The frontline troops, rest where you are."
The sound of knocking interrupted their thoughts, as a secretary ran in anxiously, "General, the National Palace of Mexico has been attacked by missiles, seven members of the Presidential Guard are dead, and Mr. Cuauhtémoc is seriously injured!"
"What!!!" Casare jumped up, anxiously exclaiming, "Who did it?"
Beside him, Kennedy looked somewhat stunned, and Horatio Herbert Kitchener glanced nervously at Victor.
But his expression was calm, even stoic, and it was this demeanor that inexplicably eased everyone's minds.
Those with thunder in their hearts and calm on their faces deserve to be called Admirals!!
"The missiles were launched from Oaxaca State, two M90 missiles. The Oaxaca Resistance Army has claimed responsibility for the attack and demands the release of El Mencho. Otherwise, they will attack more targets," the secretary hurriedly explained.
Drug traffickers have evolved into terrorist organizations!
They even had missiles.
It seems their financial backers were eagerly awaiting the death of Victor.
"Who do you think did it?"
Kennedy frowned, "The source of the M90 missiles..."
"It's untraceable; there are too many of those missiles in Africa and the Middle East, piled up in many storerooms. It would be as hard as reaching heaven to find out. However, I think it's either the CIA or MI6 supporting them," Horatio Herbert Kitchener said gravely.
Victor, legs crossed, squinting, stared at them, "I want to retaliate. No matter who did it, I'm very upset right now. All of Mexico is to put a bounty on members of the intelligence agencies of the United Kingdom, the United States, and Spain—ten thousand US dollars per employee, and two hundred thousand US dollars if we catch the local head. And get me the head of that damned leader of the resistance army, kill his entire family!"
Victor took a breath and paused, "Activate 'Murky Plan', incite people involved in drugs in those three countries to cause riots. If he won't let me be comfortable, I'll drag them all down with me!"
Did you think that only drug traffickers infiltrated those three countries?
Victor had long since planted plenty of spies within, ready to cause trouble at the right time.
Victor also wanted to dominate, but alas, he didn't have enough soldiers at his command; Mexico is 1,964,375 square kilometers, and with just a hundred thousand soldiers, their presence would hardly make a splash.
Impatience won't get you hot tofu.
And besides, soldiers need rest. They must recuperate. Long-term, high-intensity warfare can break people down.
The logistics department is already moving psychologists to the front lines to provide support.
"Send Cuauhtémoc to the best hospital in Tijuana."
"Then, boss, who do you think is most suitable to act in Cuauhtémoc's place?" Casare asked quietly.
This was a sensitive question that instantly quieted everyone.
Victor sat with his arms crossed, his right thumb lightly tapping on the back of his left hand. Who assumes the role was not important; what mattered was whether he felt they were suitable.
Perhaps this is the nature of a master manipulator.
Suddenly, Victor turned to Casare, asking directly, "Do you want the job?"
The General's loyal dog flinched, his face flushing red with nervousness, "I... I'm probably not qualified, am I?"