Working as a police officer in Mexico

And at this time, the Personnel Affairs Office and the Logistics Department also acted swiftly, beginning to contact reporters, taking military medals and "ashes" to visit the families of the fallen soldiers. In front of the cameras, they consoled the family members.

"We have reached a humanitarian agreement with Mexico, these are the ashes of the first batch of fallen soldiers. We are ensuring that our soldiers return to their hometowns as much as possible."

There was even a grand ceremony held.

At the funerals, the family members of the fallen soldiers cried their hearts out, and after the government officials spoke, their reputation slowly began to turn around.

And at this time, Tijuana announced to the whole world that not a single body had returned to Spain.

"Maybe they gave you lime!" the spokesperson said humorously, "Of course, it could also be drugs."

Family members with a bad feeling about it opened up the tombstones and, indeed, found the color of the ashes peculiar. They took it carefully to be tested—damn it, it was actually lime.

Furious, they stormed the Madrid government to protest, demanding an explanation. During this time, the outraged family members punched and kicked the guards, gradually escalating into a riot.

Some even rushed into the palace, and His Majesty the King, whose health had improved significantly, fainted once again.

Even during the century-old derby between Real Madrid and Barcelona, a female fan ran onto the field, took off her top, revealing the written words: "Juan Carlos XXXX!"

It even quivered.

Eventually, security held her down. As she passed by reporters, she shouted loudly, "Why send our people to die! Why go and interfere with Mexico's drug war; those must be drug traffickers, we have drug traffickers in high places!"

March 6!

The Spanish Cabinet announced its resignation!

This was the first cabinet that Victor caused to step down.

Really, following the United States is like starving for three days out of nine.

Not the slightest bit wise, nor knowing how they managed to survive World War I and II.

…

"Are you saying that American-made BLU—82 bombs were found on the battlefield?" Director Stanfield Turner asked with a furrowed brow.

His injuries had healed, and he returned to work, looking much better, but only he himself knew how his body was feeling. After surgery, his body was very weak; now every breath still caused pain in his lungs.

But still better than Old Bush, who still lay in bed.

Everything now depended on Vice President James Dan Quayle's command, but he had little interest in Victor; he wanted to take the top job! Stay connected through My Virtual Library Empire

He'd been restless these days.

"Do you mean someone from General Dynamics Corporation colluded with the enemy?"

That bomb was produced by this company.

The deputy director standing before him shook his head, "I am not sure."

Stanfield Turner snorted, "That bunch of capitalists don't care about our nation, they care about business! I think, for sure, there is still someone inside colluding with the enemy!"

Mexico's American equipment was suspicious, but no evidence had been found thus far.

From Stanfield Turner's perspective, it meant this fish was very cautious!

And very big.

"Keep digging. I refuse to believe that someone can hide so deep!"

The deputy director nodded.

"Director, the quarterly bonus needs to be distributed..."

"Then distribute it. Why do you have to ask me about such a trivial matter?"

The deputy director, embarrassed, spread his hands, "There's no money left."

"???!!! How is that possible, didn't we just receive a fund recently?" Stanfield Turner's eyes widened, and the other party dared not look him in the eye.

"Get the accounts over here. I want to see."

The deputy director's face changed, "This… Director…"

"Go get them!"

Seeing that he was serious, the deputy director could only reluctantly leave. After almost half an hour, he finally brought over the finances and ledgers.

Stanfield Turner opened the book, glanced at it, and suddenly lifted his head, "A toilet costs thirty thousand US dollars! What kind of toilet is that?"

The finance officer hesitated and looked at the deputy director, both a bit uneasy.

"Hospitality expenses, five hundred thousand US dollars." He burst out laughing with rage, "What did you eat? Japanese sashimi? Or did you eat bullets? Tell me!"

"If you don't make it clear today, I'm sending you two to prison!" Stanfield Turner wasn't corrupt, but this was too blatant. Did they really think everyone else was a fool?

Or perhaps you might as well claim a garbage bag costs ninety thousand US dollars.

Actually, from top to bottom, everyone in the United States was corrupt, including The Pentagon. Why did so many people want to start the Gulf War?

The Military Industrial Complex could make money!

Military officers involved could make money, and even the common soldiers on the front lines could get a pay raise. Why not?

Hearing about prison, the finance officer panicked and confessed everything, "Director, please listen to me, this hospitality expense, this... your son took the money."

"Nonsense!" the CIA director looked displeased.

"It's true, he came to me with a note signed by you, asking for some money, to keep it quiet. I gave it to him, and he even said it was you who needed it."

Stanfield Turner's face turned ashen!

He suddenly remembered when he went home before, his son was driving a Porsche sports car, which he had claimed to be a classmate's, but now... could it actually be from embezzlement?!

"How many times has he come to you..."

"Four times, a total of three million one hundred nineteen thousand US dollars."

Stanfield Turner's blood boiled and kicked over the waste bin with a foot. He pulled out a gun from the drawer, ready to charge out the door in a towering rage.

But the deputy director held him back, pleading, "Director, Director, you need to stay calm, calm down!"

"After I put down that little bastard, I'll come back and execute you two!" Stanfield Turner yelled.

"What about the guys on Capitol Hill? Are you going to shoot them too?"

With that question, he stiffened.

"You can't dig too deep. If you do... do you believe you'll have an 'accident' tomorrow? Wouldn't it be better if we all just pretended not to know?"

The deputy director saw he was less agitated and grabbed the gun away, "Director, rest assured, this matter only heaven, earth, you, and we know; no one else will know. We'll redo the accounts right away."

"But you mustn't make a fuss. Those big shots who have taken the money, they won't be happy to return it."

Stanfield Turner was drained of all spirit and waved them away.

The deputy director and finance officer glanced at each other and then left.

Only Stanfield Turner sat in the office, stunned.

Just then, the phone on the desk rang. He initially didn't want to answer, but after it rang incessantly, Stanfield Turner took a deep breath and picked up the phone, "Hello, this is Turner."

"Good afternoon, Director Turner. You... don't want your son to go to jail, do you?"

His eyes widened in shock!

...