Working as a police officer in Mexico

These people all had interests tied up with him since before Victor's era and later, they fully supported Victor's propositions, which is why their promotions came swiftly.

Even the least significant police inspector was the leader of the operational group for the Tijuana City police or the person in charge of the anti-gang unit.

The majority of the others were capable hands within the Anti-Drug Force.

Demetrius's current position was that of a former high-ranking commander in the Anti-Drug Force and, with a bit of luck, he might be selected as a brigadier general in this upheaval.

"Very well, you have all arrived in good order." He nodded in satisfaction as he looked at those who had arrived and glanced at his watch, "Let's cut the chatter."

"The Spanish intelligence service has given us a task, if we can accomplish it, we will become the new masters of this country, they will help us take Mexico City!" Demetrius spoke with excitement.

"According to the information, Victor is going to the United States tomorrow to attend a memorial service; he'll be taking Kennedy and others with him. It's during this time that we'll seize power!"

Rebellion!

This thought surfaced in everyone's minds, their eyes revealing fear.

They had only thought about selling some classified information for money, not about rebelling!

This was a capital offense punishable by death!

Demetrius saw all their movements and expressions and immediately his tone became sinister, and he chuckled coldly, "Gentlemen, you don't think there's still a way out, do you?"

"Working with the Spanish intelligence service, we have already touched Victor's bottom line. He's a maniacal murderer, the number of people he's killed could circle Mexico from here, don't you know that? Have you forgotten what happened this morning?"

"Perhaps you still harbor some hope, thinking that if you turn yourselves in, the other side will let you go? Stop joking, even if they don't kill you, they'll surely throw you into the dungeons of the Mexico intelligence service. You're not even 40 yet, are you really ready to retire?"

It must be said, Demetrius had a way with words, and he was quite a character, having the guts during Victor's era to throw himself into the front lines just to catch the big boss's attention.

Luckily, he didn't die but instead got promoted directly!

He understood very clearly that fortune favors the bold.

"We have a 90% chance of success. We just need to control the airport, prevent any planes from landing! We'll lead men to storm the City Hall, take Victor's place!"

Everyone looked at each other.

"Have you considered that aside from Tijuana, Victor could land somewhere else?" someone spoke up, "If he returns to Mexico, do you think his troops will support him or us?"

Demetrius wasn't afraid of questions, just that no one would ask any. He smiled, "Do you think the Spanish intelligence service only has us?"

"They also have people in Mexico City who will respond to us, they'll storm into Cuauhtémoc's official residence and kill him, isn't that a simple matter of one bullet?"

Why does Spain have to kill him?

Because Victor has disrupted their interests here!

The only ones he didn't touch were the Americans, not the other Europeans, like the Italians, Spaniards, and French. All of your factories have to let the "Baja California Finance Department" get involved; no complete foreign ownership allowed.

Agree or get out.

The only ones left untouched were the Americans, no choice there, they're too close, their military is right at the doorstep.

Especially the Spanish factories here, they've nearly faced ruin, and have wanted to deal with him for a long time, but lacked the power. During World War II, they were famously inept. Now... could they really fly over the Danish Strait to do their own dirty work?

No choice but to resort to dirty tricks.

"In the United States, someone will present Victor with a big gift. If he could die out there, even better. Rest assured, even if we fail, the Spaniards have promised us that they will allow us and our families to live in Europe, and protect us, they won't let us down!"

Demetrius raised his hand, lowering his voice, "Gentlemen, riches and honor are before us, our future is before us. Who agrees? Who opposes?"

Those present looked at each other, hoping someone would stand up.

"I won't participate in this activity, I'm out!" Police inspector Smith Lyle, who was initially against the operation, shook his head and said, "You can rest assured, I won't disclose our plan, I swear to God!" Continue your saga on empire

Demetrius was taken aback, nodded, "I respect your choice. Anyone else?"

No one else made a sound.

"Then you may go, Smith. Remember, don't talk carelessly."

"I hope you succeed."

Mr. Inspector wished them well and headed for the door. He just wanted to make money, not to get involved in a rebellion that might damn well kill him.

Smith Lyle had just touched the doorknob when he felt a painful blow to the head and a ringing in his ears. With great effort, he turned around, only to see Demetrius's twisted expression, "Dead men don't tell tales!"

He held an ashtray in his hand, smashing it fiercely against Smith.

In just a few strikes, Smith's head burst open and blood flowed. He barely breathed on the ground. Demetrius was ruthless, to himself and even more to others.

Tossing the bloodied ashtray on the ground, he turned and glared at the others, none of whom dared to breathe out loud.

"Anybody else want to leave?"

Seeing everyone shaking their heads in terror, Demetrius nodded in satisfaction, "Very good, gentlemen. Only the like-minded can survive on the same path; those who oppose must die."

"This operation will be called Operation Troy!"

Win, and Mexico is ours!

We lost, but our presence is in the air of Mexico!

...

Meanwhile, at the Tijuana City Hall, inside an office.

Victor was holding a painting in his hands.

A very lifelike portrait of Bush's upper body.

It was a gift he had prepared, already framed.

"A very good artist," Victor was pleased and decided he would get the same artist to paint his own portrait later on.

Jason Bourne nodded from the side, "We've added a small secret compartment here, just the right size for a special bug. Do you want it installed?"

The Victor admiring the portrait abruptly looked up, staring straight at him.

Sly dog.

You're thinking of starting a "Golden Lips" project?

The Russians have done it before, Americans definitely won't be fooled that easily.

But once this thought reached Victor's lips, it turned into, "What's the likelihood it could be detected?"

"Unless they physically tear it open, it's not very likely. But if it does get hit with external force, it'll self-destruct automatically," Jason Bourne explained.

Victor thought it over and still felt there was a significant risk.

I'm pretending to be a godfather now, can't be messing around like that.

However, Jason Bourne's plan did stir up a lot of ideas in Victor, "Let's forget about Bush, but we can get something into the DEA and FBI."

Even if the relationships are close now, who knows what they're keeping from me behind my back?

"Have you found the one who tried to seduce FBI Director Floyd I. Clarke's wife?"

Jason Bourne nodded, "Yes, we have."

"Who is it?"

"Jeff Bennett."

Victor's prodigious memory immediately recalled the guy, and his brows furrowed at once—it was that "Clown" character.

"He recommended himself," Bourne clarified, seeing the boss's expression, "He said he wanted to try out a new assignment."

So, he wants to be the Ethan Hunt of gigolos?

Quite the challenge!

"How is he doing?" Victor asked, still frowning.

"The guy's not bad in bed."

"...Did I ask you that? I'm asking about his eloquence!"

With an awkward smile, Bourne cleared his throat, "His IQ tested well internally, but he's at the bottom for EQ in the whole outfit, a bit misanthropic and particularly shady, plus he has a tendency towards violence."

"But I think we should give him a shot."

Victor looked at him, indicating for him to continue.

"Our target, a woman of 43, has a strong BDSM inclination, and our investigations revealed that she suffered trauma in her childhood; doctors have diagnosed her with Stockholm syndrome!"

"Jeff Bennett totally fits the bad boy image. He just has that look of a villain."

Jeff Bennett: Thanks a bunch, on behalf of your entire family!

After a moment of thought, Victor agreed.

"It would be even better if we could bug Richard James Curl from the CIA, but it's a pity he doesn't have a wife. Sigh."

Bourne's brows knitted slightly, "Boss!"

"What's up?"

"Richard James Curl has a mother, only 71, a very fashionable old lady. Should we send Jeff Bennett to handle her too? One or two, it's all the same."

"..."

You...‌

After all, you're in intelligence; you've abandoned moral and aesthetic standards!

Aren't you afraid of Bennett coming after you?

This is Victor's expression: awkward!

But being a "godfather" to the head of the CIA, just the thought is thrilling.