Working as a police officer in Mexico

Manfred von Richthofen piloted the F14, glanced left and right, gave the other pilots a thumbs-up—a lot of guys were dispatched from the air force base just to deal with this thing.

A total of fifteen fighter jets took off simultaneously—there's no way they couldn't take down a single "stranded" destroyer!

With one dive, missiles were launched at the USS Arleigh Burke destroyer!

The Yanks were completely petrified!

But after all, being professionally trained, the SM-2 anti-air missiles headed towards the F14, while the high-caliber machine guns started forming a fire net—tat-tat-tat…

The entire sky was filled with bullets flying everywhere.

Weapon systems, all activated!

Enter combat mode.

The F14's missile exploded in midair, the severe shock wave shook the destroyer's glass thrice.

"Executive officer, executive officer! Captain Sigel Barros, he…" A sailor ran back to the command center in a panic, with disbelief in his eyes.

"What happened!" The executive officer's heart quivered.

"He's dead! The captain is dead!"

A whirl of confusion ensued, he stumbled, nearly falling to the ground, but luckily someone next to him quickly came to the rescue.

Why the hell did you choose now of all times to die!

The executive officer was about to say something when the ship lurched, and someone shouted, "The hull's been hit, the ship is listing!"

"Call for support! Quickly, call for domestic support!"

Now there's no choice but to shake people up; upon hearing his order, a communications soldier hastily made contact with the homeland to report the situation.

"We're taking on water!!"

The executive officer was suddenly at a loss.

Meanwhile, on La Samolina Beach in Mexican Tamaulipas—popular with overseas tourists for its proximity to the Gulf of Mexico, its natural sea breeze, and fine scenery.

Most importantly…

The place had not been touched by war; the Northern Army hadn't come this far yet, and the rebels formed by Southern drug traffickers also knew that relying solely on drug trafficking couldn't sustain such a large industry anymore, they had to start exploring other tracks.

Such as tourism, or the so-called "green gold" avocados, or some foreign sponsorships—as long as it was profitable, they were all in, even collecting taxes!

The Southern drug traffickers slowly transformed from ragtag insurgents into a quasi-state, with the help of external forces.

The sudden attack stunned everyone on the beach.

"OMG!" An American opened his mouth wide, took off his sunglasses, shocked at the sight, while some were already taking pictures in a frenzy.

A dozen or so fighter jets surrounding and attacking a warship!

Such a scene was quite rare indeed.

"It's hit! It's hit!" a black man suddenly shouted, clutching his head in shock, eyes bulging as large as watermelons.

In everyone's gaze.

The USS Arleigh Burke's deck was struck by a missile; the explosion caused the ship to tilt and start sinking under astonished looks.

And sailors began to jump overboard in panic, but if they picked the wrong spot, everything falling off the ship ended up in the sea!

Most importantly, the sinking created a whirlpool, sucking in the nearby sailors, creating a vast vacuum zone.

Gurgle~

On the beach, a large-bearded man with tattoos swallowed hard, holding a Sony camera; through the lens, he saw that after taking out the warship, those fighter jets were now heading straight for the beach!

"They're coming! Run for it!"

Hundreds of tourists on the beach scrambled wildly, pulling someone else's wife, carrying someone else's child, fleeing in panic.

But how could they outrun planes?

Boom~!!

Manfred von Richthofen loved to show off his skills, with a low-flying maneuver creating sonic booms; the powerful downdraft flipped some of the people nearby, and even a woman's bra strap snapped.

"Captain, should we return to base!"

"Now that we're here, let's give the Tamaulipas drug traffickers some New Year's gifts!"

The combat squadron headed straight for the Tamaulipas Capital, Victoria City.

Actually, the previous bombing of Zapatista Theological Army leader Gustavo had taken place here, at the time Vic was seeking vengeance for Cuauhtémoc, killing three of the enemy's mistresses.

Now well…

Just something to do on the side.

But today happened to be Sunday, and the local traffickers were off; by the time they rushed back in a frenzy, the military airfield had been bombed, and Gustavo's younger brother, inspecting here, had been blown to pieces!

These series of operations all happened within the span of an hour or so.

Indeed, in combat, as long as there is no complete air defense system, aircraft can generally dominate the battlefield.

United States, Washington.

Old Bush was attending a banquet, an internal "meet and greet"; many people surrounded him with smiles.

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He felt pretty good; despite the recent "controversy" surrounding him.

At the very least, internally, the Bush Family's prestige was still enough, he could pull off another term!

But his happiness didn't last long; his senior secretary, Bahas Johnson, jogged over, whispering a few words in his ear.

Those around him saw his face turn instantly green.

"Excuse me, I need to take care of something." Old Bush smiled stiffly, walking to the side, but stumbled—an accident avoided thanks to Bahas Johnson's support.

In the temporary conference room on the second-floor study.

Several confidants sat inside.

Upon his entrance, Defense Minister Admiral Carl Vorno jumped up, his face showing a hint of disarray, "The Mexicans have made their move! Our warship has sunk!"

"F***! Vic, that bastard, is just itching for a fight. Mr. President, give the order, let's declare war!"