Working as a police officer in Mexico

Victor was sipping his coffee while reading the newspaper, which reported that the disdain for drugs within the United States was growing day by day.

There was also a minor incident.

Five American white youths and three of Asian descent ran to the CIA's gate one evening to start a fire in protest of their covert support for drug trafficking.

However, the fire hadn't even been lit when they were pinned to the ground, now facing charges.

Victor liked such news; the more the American public detested drugs, the more he could extort in terms of weapons and other support from those politicians.

Thump, thump~

Just then, Jason Bourne came running over, bending beside him, "Director, Guzman is back in the country. Our informant spotted him at Manzanillo Port where a cargo ship was unloading a considerable amount of weapons, presumably sponsored by the Colombians."

"What sort of weapons?"

"The informant mentioned tanks and armed helicopters; he couldn't make out the rest clearly as he was quite far away."

"Pablo is quite generous!" laughed Victor, "It seems they are planning to put up a tough fight against me!"

"Shall we give him a taste of his own medicine, is his old mother still in the countryside?"

Jason Bourne nodded.

Victor narrowed his eyes craftily, "Massacre the village, kidnap his old mother and bring her to our territory. Let her plead with the nation for him to surrender. Isn't Guzman a filial son? Let's see if he obeys!"

Massacre!

The intelligence chief listening beside also shivered at this.

But in fact, he agreed in his heart.

Guzman was somewhat "sentimental"; after becoming wealthy, he brought his fellow villagers along to share in his fortune—who in the village hadn't mixed with him?

Many villagers' children were also helping him traffic drugs, holding high positions within the Sinaloa Group, like the four Beltran Leyva brothers, who were from the same village.

Without any exaggeration, their village must be the most prosperous in Mexico, complete with paved roads and houses sporting little western-style buildings.

To wipe it out would not be a mistake!

And moreover...

The village was not far from Solano State...

If I can't get you, I'll start with your mother!

"Boss, this might negatively impact your reputation in public opinion," Casare, who had been listening from behind, interjected.

In the Anti-Drug Force, only Casare could still call him "boss."

Many things others say don't count, but if he were to convey it to Victor, there was a chance it might do the trick.

Hearing his words, Victor laughed, "Do you think I still need any good reputation? Record the scene of the massacre and include it in the documentary. I'll make them suffer not just this year but make them miserable every month when it airs!"

He was not afraid of public opinion at all.

Once I return from my American godfather, deepening our bond, I will be Mexico, and Mexico will be me!

To mess with me, you'll have to ask my godfather.

"Let the Joint Operations Command develop a plan; when I get back, I want to see Guzman's mother!"

"Understood!"

"Ding-dong~"

A voice came over the plane's speaker, "This is the United States Air Force 107, please report your origin."

"This is the Duke Victor of Mexico, invited to New York."

"Welcome to your arrival. Two F-15E aircraft from my department will escort you. Have a pleasant trip."

Victor looked out the window to see an F-15E gracefully tracing a white line in the sky, the overall streamline filling him with invigoration.

No man could refuse the role of a pilot, could they?

It was around eleven or twelve at night, still having to grasp the "stick" and rock it forwards, backwards, left, and right, but typically crashing after three or four minutes.

If only I could pilot a plane myself!

It seemed... Golden Finger did indeed have skills available for purchase!

At the time, he didn't look closely, just scanned through, noticing many combat skills, including Special Forces rapelling, armed swimming, wilderness survival, and flight piloting, among others.

However, he hadn't paid much attention at that time.

He was going to have a plane soon; shouldn't he get some practice?

"Eh? Boss, look!" Just as Victor was preparing to check how many points flight piloting required, Casare from behind exclaimed in surprise, pointing outside.

He looked outside.

And saw an F-15E heading straight for their own aircraft.

Without slowing down?!

Fuck!

What does that mean? Are they trying to kill themselves?

No way...

They wouldn't have the guts, would they?

But then again, I thought about the "good show" in 1988 when President Masire of Botswana was almost taken down by an Angolan Air Force MiG-21 fighter jet firing an R-73 air-to-air missile.

One of the engines was completely wrecked, but he managed to make a hard landing with skill, just a bit shaken up.

When the F-15E was about to collide, it stylishly lifted its head and flew over their plane.

Victor could almost hear their mockery and cheers, and his face looked extremely unpleasant.

Casare was also cursing, "No manners! Where's the etiquette? Damn it! Protest, we must protest!"

"Americans never really care about etiquette!" Jason Bourne added beside him, his tone not much better, finding such provocative behavior utterly infuriating.

A twitch appeared at the corner of Victor's eye.

About an hour or so later, the plane landed at Newburgh Air Force Base.

As they disembarked, there was no red carpet or welcoming committee, not even the most basic ceremony.

There was just the Mayor of New York City and a major general from the Newburgh Air Force Base to welcome them.

He was, after all, just a "cop", not even someone with a particularly prominent position in the Mexican Government.

The Secretary of Public Security for Baja California?

Give me a break, how much could a Mexican Secretary of Public Security be worth?

If it weren't for Victor's usefulness, even the Mayor of New York might not have come to welcome him.

For Americans, etiquette is for the powerful; the weak just need to be fed.

First time in the United States, standing like a henchman!

The first thing Victor said when he saw them made both big shots flinch, "Gentlemen, your fighter pilots have poor flying skills! I thought my grandma was driving a bumper car. Was he drinking, or is the United States Air Force's skill just not up to par?"

The general's face soured instantly.

Who wants to hear their soldiers criticized for lack of skill?

"Our pilots are the best!"

"Really?" Victor looked at him skeptically.

"If you don't believe it, maybe we can have a test, oh, sorry, I didn't know Mr. Victor doesn't fly fighter jets." The general scoffed, "Does Mexico have fighter jets?"

"You need to open your eyes, being too proud isn't good, I'd be willing to school you," Victor retorted.

The Mayor of New York watched the scene like a spectator, finding it amusing, as previous diplomatic niceties had always been about everyone being nice to each other; such scenes were rare.

The last time he saw someone as "unruly" as this was probably Fidel Castro.

Eating hot dogs in the zoo like a rock star, kissing "female fans", and hugging children like a politician. He even ran to George Washington's tomb to lay a wreath.

He even retaliated against a young person who gave him an obscene gesture, shouting, "You should come and have a one-on-one fight with me, bastard!"

But his personal charm was indeed well-liked by many.

Perhaps American society just likes what they consider "rebels"!

"Can we have an air duel with the pilot from just now? How about on August 10th? I'll be staying in the United States for four days, giving you permission to run away, cowards." Victor said boldly.

The general was so angry his mouth was crooked.

When had he ever seen someone so "bold", "We accept your challenge, but I hope you won't back out, Mr. Victor. I hope your skills are as satisfying as your mouth," he responded.

"I'll have to report this to Mr. Bush and get approval, General Chapman. Mr. Victor is our guest, please show the necessary respect," the Mayor of New York intervened.

Then, turning to Victor with a smile, "Please get in the car, we've arranged accommodations for you. Tonight there will be a welcome meeting. According to your schedule, tomorrow you'll visit Liberty Island in the morning to pay your respects to the victims, and in the afternoon you'll visit Cornell University."

"Your security will be handled by George Foreman, an agent from the Special Service," the Mayor of New York continued, pointing to a muscular man beside him.

This George Foreman kept a serious face, "In the ring, if we play by rules, he could knock the crap out of me with one punch, but off the ring, I can make him understand that his mother should have gotten pregnant sooner."

Victor laughed heartily at these words.

Who says Americans don't have a sense of humor?

"You're more interesting than certain major generals."

That was quite a statement...

George Foreman glanced at the general beside him, whose face was turning green, hmm... he probably wasn't as handsome as himself.

...