Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 1017 - 525: Since ancient times..._2

"The Nobel Foundation has experienced a financial downturn in their investments, and this year’s prize money is only about 400,000 crowns, a significant reduction. Perhaps... they want to make some extra money. The United States originally promised to invest, but they still haven’t paid last year’s United Nations dues. Now it’s almost becoming a famine."

I see.

No wonder; a prize controlled by Europe and America is willing to let someone from Mexico win.

"Make the arrangements."

The confidential secretary nodded and hurried off to make arrangements.

Victor leisurely lit a cigarette.

In a rush?

Rush for what? A sage will argue for me in due time!

After about forty minutes, he extinguished the cigarette and stood up, "Let’s go, see what’s happening."

...

Carter was dozing in the CH-53 transport helicopter. The old man was really tired from wandering and displacement; even the snoring had started to sound.

"Sir, sir."

Suddenly, he felt someone gently push him, and he opened his eyes at once, "What’s going on?"

"We’re almost there, just five more minutes. Prepare to descend."

Carter nodded, just as he was about to stand and stretch, he suddenly heard a bang, was that the sound of the cabin door being struck?

"Gun! Someone’s firing a gun!"

The security beside him immediately pressed down the old man’s head.

The pilot seemed equally panicked but still forced himself to stay calm, contacting the ground, "Tower, tower! We have been fired upon! We’ve been fired upon!"

They were flying directly to the White House, which meant there was a gunman hiding nearby.

The personnel below, upon hearing the news, were terrified, thinking, oh shit, not another one? Why the word "another"?

They quickly dispatched police and the Special Service to search the area, and the helicopter parked on the rooftop also took off to escort the descent of the CH-53 transport helicopter.

Fortunately, nothing major happened.

But when Carter got off the helicopter, his legs were weak, and it was the bodyguard next to him who supported him. The old man took a few deep breaths to steady himself, waved his hand to indicate he was alright, and turned to look at the cabin door of the CH-53 transport helicopter.

Damn...

A dent was clearly visible!

"It should be a handgun. If the power was a bit more, it would have penetrated," the bodyguard beside him said in a low voice.

Carter really felt like crying.

Back in Kennedy’s day, he didn’t have it this bad, he at least went silently, but he himself had to endure the fear, yet he had to keep a strong front, "Looks like God is on my side."

Dear brother...

You almost went to argue with God for a good person card.

Age has made it impossible not to show any expression, but at least he held his urine, unlike some who can’t even distinguish between the four cardinal directions when they can’t hold their urine.

"Sir, you should go back first, we’ll handle things here."

Carter nodded, taking a deep breath, his figure somewhat hunched.

The newly appointed Director of the Special Service had a face ashen with anger. Can you imagine... it’s like being a gatekeeper and waking up to find the door has been stolen. How would you feel?

He bellowed out orders, sending people out and contacting Fobler, and finally caught the culprit, a 17-year-old white gunman who planned to randomly kill White House staff to express dissatisfaction with Carter’s policy.

Who would have thought, upon looking up, there was a helicopter coming down. His instincts told him there must be someone important, and he just fired a shot.

When apprehended, the FBI’s body cam was out of battery, the batons were fully charged, his body was lean but his face was pudgy, and he babbled incoherently. Two hits later, not even knowing who his mom and dad were.

Upon hearing the news, Eleanor Rosaline rushed over to Carter and hugged him tightly, tears streaming. This 68-year-old man’s heart almost stopped.

"It’s alright, it’s alright, I’m standing here, aren’t I?" Hugging his wife, Carter showed all the tenderness of a husband, gently comforting her with his tone.

"Resign, let’s go back home and farm, or we could manage Carter’s House, and not come to the White House anymore."

She was genuinely scared, afraid she’d open her eyes one day and become like Jacqueline.

Of course, Jacqueline was young and could remarry.

But her relationship with Carter couldn’t be matched by a mere ship tycoon, having weathered storms for decades.

"If I leave out of fear, then after my death, my epitaph would only read ’a coward’, Rosaline. I have been bravest twice, once for loving you, once for entering the White House, and for the third time, let me leave it to the United States."

Carter gently wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes.

The only thing missing at that moment were the reporters.

He was an honest man, had it been Trump, with his hair resembling a map of Tongliao, he would have definitely brought some reporters, then said, "I can conquer women and I can conquer the United States."

Oh, that guy is working on his company now.

Barely clawed back from bankruptcy.

After soothing Rosaline, Carter returned to his office, called in all the top leadership, and he neither screamed hysterically nor detailed his experience, he just silently looked at them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the United States needs to bleed!"

After the meeting, he called Jewish Capital and the Angsa Consortium. No one knows what was discussed, but Congress soon passed a bill banning racial discrimination and automatically listing organizations with certain colors as terrorist organizations.

Furthermore...

The entire country entered a state of war readiness.

The military entered the streets to maintain order. freewebnσvel.cѳm

It was demanded that, by year-end, the extreme right-wing organizations be completely eradicated.

News media also started changing their tone, no longer criticizing Carter but rather trying every means to create momentum for him, saying he was saving America.

In any case, it all seemed good on the surface.

But violence is never so easily quelled.

The suppressed extreme-right organizations, of course, wouldn’t surrender easily. They pooled some funds and found a way to contact a notorious organization.

Hydra!

"9 million US dollars to assassinate Carter?"

In a castle in Kingston, Canada.

The head of Hydra, Heinrich Louis Bodmer, clicked his tongue twice while holding a letter; he wore gold-rimmed glasses, but his eyes seemed unsettling, like a... butcher.

"Message from Mexico City, don’t touch Carter or target the United States for now." His deputy Reinhard Tristan Eugen, who looked quite dashing, with thick eyebrows and big eyes, shook his head and said.

In looking at Reinhardt’s face, Bodmer did sense a hint of envy. He coughed, "Is that the General’s order?"

"Yes!"

"The General can sometimes be whimsical," Heinrich Louis Bodmer said softly.

The deputy immediately widened his eyes, knowing Heinrich Louis Bodmer had let it go to his head. Although his loyalty was undeniable, sometimes he said things without thinking, with no regard for whom he might offend.

He... has become arrogant!

With strong financial and intelligence support, Hydra has over 30,000 employees worldwide, fully capable of toppling a small country, having even orchestrated events like the "London Fall," earning them great notoriety.

Under the sun, nothing remains hidden. Eventually, Heinrich Louis Bodmer was also tracked down. Not all world intelligence agencies are just sitting around.

The United Kingdom offered a bounty: 32 million British Pounds!

The terrorist organizations praised him, other countries feared him, exacerbating his arrogance.

The history is full of capable, loyal, yet arrogant figures.

Deputy Reinhard Tristan Eugen, squinting his eyes and lightly tapping the table with his fingers, said, "We must maintain respect for the General."

Heinrich Louis Bodmer smiled noncommittally, "9 million to kill a US President is not enough, tell them to add more. We are generating extra income for Mexico; this year’s KPI hasn’t been met."

Hydra is known for obtaining any information as long as there’s money. So, many organizations and individuals prefer buying from them, achieving high repeat business, eventually not requiring Mexico’s assistance, even supporting Mexico in return, being one of the reasons for Bodmer’s arrogance.

"Okay then, let’s settle it this way, I’ll discuss it with the General." Heinrich Louis Bodmer dismissively waved his hand.

Victor would grant him this favor.

Deputy Reinhard Tristan Eugen furrowed his brows but felt impending disaster. He squinted, realizing he could not continue in blind allegiance, needing to report to the General.

This guy is too unreliable; a more steady person is needed.

The vast legacy of Hydra cannot be entrusted to such an individual.

Reinhard Tristan Eugen, also eager to advance, took one last deep look at the other and quietly left the room.

Unbeknownst to him, Heinrich Louis Bodmer sneered disdainfully at his departing figure.

"Little man!"

......

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