Working as a police officer in Mexico

Iraq's declaration of war against Mexico didn't stir up any commotion in Mexico City.

It's not like the Americans are coming to fight.

Even if they did come, we could just surrender!

Plenty of Mexicans wouldn't mind being American.

Welcome the king's army with food and drink!

We want to be American, too.

But Iraq?

Where the hell is that?

You could cover the whole of Western Asia with a booger on the map.

National Palace.

Cuauhtémoc was working in his office when his secretary came in, "Sir, the petition is ready."

He took it and glanced over it, and his expression immediately turned quite animated.

The first part was a severe denunciation of Iraq's perverse actions, the middle praised the valiant spirit of the United States, claiming that Mexico was eager and ready to follow its big daddy's lead in crushing the opposition.

The end, though, was pleading poverty.

Daddy, I'm so scared, they're gonna hit me, wah wah wah, I need Patriots, Tridents, and militiamen!

The tone of this letter was so nauseatingly obsequious, the choice of words so humbling, it was unheard of and unseen before!

"Who wrote this, it's a total loss of face for the nation of Mexico!" Cuauhtémoc crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it into the wastebasket, shouting loudly.

"Don't we need dignity? This groveling tone will only make the Americans look down on us even more!"

"Who wrote it?"

"It was delivered from the Northern Governorship, reportedly by Governor Victor himself," said the secretary in a low voice.

Cuauhtémoc's face stiffened for a moment, he silently sat down and unfolded the crumpled paper, reading it again slowly, nodding his head.

"This one is well written, the choice of words precise, the emotional appeal touching; I think the Americans will definitely help us after reading this."

The secretary kept his head down, the corners of his eyes twitching continuously.

Mr. President, your progress is too rapid!

"Hand it over to the American side."

Cuauhtémoc said, against his better conscience, passing it to his secretary.

The latter took it with both hands, nodding vigorously.

"Sir, there's a voice in the Senate suggesting re-elections for governors and mayors of each state, many have been bought by drug traffickers, severely impacting government operations, they're hoping to bring in some fresh faces."

"The hard ones have already been killed by drug traffickers," Cuauhtémoc said lightly, "Don't think I'm not aware of what they're planning, they just want to promote their own people, then hustle for money and run off to the United States? Heh, they've got it all figured out, but who would become governor of the northern six states?"

"Who would dare become governor!"

That was undoubtedly true; even if you were handed the appointment for Baja California, who among you would dare go?

Vic would tear it up right in front of you.

An edict I will not obey is but a chaos sowing script!

But Cuauhtémoc was also in a tough spot; although he established the Mexican Workers' Party and occupied most of the seats with Victor's military support and his capabilities.

Still, it wasn't a dictatorship, but since Victor became Governor of the North, dissenting voices had "quieted down," yet he knew they simply switched from public to behind-the-scenes.

The revolution isn't successful yet!

The only thing Cuauhtémoc could do was to keep expanding Victor's power.

He had already decided when the time came, he would promote Victor as the head of the national armed forces!

Legally granting him the power.

And about becoming a military dictatorship?

Damn it, a country that tolerates a dozen different opinions is an insult to the "Aztec Empire"!

Cuauhtémoc had made up his mind: so what if he became a puppet?

You think anybody can do that?

Why did Victor choose him and not someone else?

Isn't it because he believes in his own abilities?

Many in the Workers' Party thought Cuauhtémoc wasn't strong enough, wanting him to "contain" the mighty Victor.

All those people, Cuauhtémoc sent them off to the hardest, most difficult places.

How to contain them?

You just criticize without facts, isn't that hooliganism?

"Tell them to drop these ideas, either work properly or get lost," Cuauhtémoc said, pointing his finger, "No jumping around, if they mess up, Victor's soldiers will be there in a blink."

The secretary nodded.

Slowly left the office.

When he closed the door, he looked back at Cuauhtémoc, his eyes reflecting complex emotions.

Mr. President, are you planning to stick to this path till the end?

Standing on the steps outside the National Palace.

The secretary looked up...

A dark cloud was hanging over Mexico's head!

That was Victor!

"A bastard trying to resurrect the monarchy!"

He took out his phone and dialed a number, "Cuauhtémoc, obstinate, he's not a true Mexican, get rid of him!"

"Take out his wife and kids, too."

...

Victor's heartfelt letter still made it to the White House.

Old Bush quieted down after reading it. Enjoy exclusive adventures from My Virtual Library Empire

He had been in the game for a long time, this was truly unprecedented, and it took him about four or five minutes to recover.

It was because he was a "young man" and more adaptable.

If it was "senile" "Xi Zong," he'd already be flustered by now. Speaking of him, he now held significant power as well, as a spokesman for the Senate Judiciary Committee.

"Deny their arms support request, agree to their joining the anti-Iraq coalition," Old Bush handed the request over to his secretary.

The latter, who evidently had also read this historic application, managed to squeeze out a smile and nodded.

"Sir, the CIA has suggested deploying troops to Mexico," said the secretary.

Old Bush paused, squinting, "That should be something Richard proposes, call him over."

The secretary quickly called Richard James Curl, who hurried over from "the farm" with files in hand.