Working as a police officer in Mexico

Popovich twisted his head to look at him, furrowing his brow, making the other person itch all over. Without waiting for his elder brother to ask, he admitted it straight out, chuckling, "This was Miley's suggestion."

Miley...

Popovich then remembered the very low-key, steady Deputy Minister of the Intelligence Bureau, a highly capable man. But alas, he wasn't one of their own; they didn't dare let him take the Director's position.

After all, it was about nepotism.

Do you think Europe and America don't practice nepotism?

They can even make a dog an Air Force member.

Popovich had it too easy in his position, which made him so cautious that at times he could only trust his own people. At least his own brother wouldn't betray him, their interests were linked.

Apart from the brain not working so well.

And Miley was a top graduate from the National University of Mexico, no issue with intelligence. He had later studied Intelligence and Command in the United States, a rare talent.

"This intelligence was also provided by Miley," Aldous Wendell came clean, so there was no need for him to hide it any longer.

Hearing that his younger brother hadn't acted alone, Popovich felt relieved, but still hesitated.

Not a bit of boldness!

"Big brother, we can only fight with our backs against the wall now. The Yanks' aid hasn't arrived yet. Our only way to get a hold of the First Marine Division is to go for a beheading operation, otherwise once they start their combined push from the south and west, we'll be lambs to the slaughter!"

"Fine! Let's do it! Anyway, we've got nothing to lose if we fail."

"You go..."

Popovich glanced at the other man, and then sharply changed the subject, "Call Miley over, I have something to say to him."

Aldous Wendell, with a sheepish laugh, aware of his own slight deficiencies (utter lack of self-awareness), nodded and left. Standing outside, he watched his brother's back, swallowing nervously before walking away.

Popovich looked at the map with a troubled expression.

Before long, he saw a man who was tall and burly, with the air of a fierce general, knock and enter. He stood straight, his every movement exuding authenticity.

Compared to him, the Director Aldous standing beside looked like a sleazy man. Standing next to him, one might think he was a lump of shit that Miley had dragged in.

If it were the year 2024, his name would be one of the "Three Stooges of Internet Idiocy."

But it was rather commonplace in South America now.

Looking him over from head to toe, Popovich was getting more pleased by the minute.

"I've got an assignment for you, Miley. If you succeed, the position of Chief of the Intelligence Bureau is yours."

The other man maintained an expressionless face, silently waiting for him to continue.

"I want you to command the operation to behead Siegmut List!"

...

A routine press conference in Tijuana.

The Minister of Propaganda, Goebbels, was mainly announcing the recent achievements of the Governor's Mansion, upcoming tasks, and the latest military victories.

"Under General Victor's leadership, the drug eradication campaign is going smoothly; Tijuana has had over 70 days without any drug trafficking or drug abuse records!"

As he spoke, several Mexican journalists below clapped.

Some journalists from Europe and America, however, remained expressionless.

Stuff like this...

Had been happening for a long time, and many times before.

Their expressionlessness was their way of protesting against the lack of press freedom in Mexico.

Goebbels didn't care; he finished all his remarks and prepared to leave when he saw a journalist jump up.

"The Northern Army dropped Solid Burning Bombs in Zacatecas as part of your drug enforcement? This is warfare, this is a massacre! How many did you kill? 200 people? Bullshit, you killed hundreds of thousands!!"

The male journalist spoke, and someone next to him also stood up, holding a banner, "Stop the killings, Zacatecas needs human rights!"

"The United Nations needs to intervene, you're using weapons of mass destruction, you're criminals!"

Security came rushing to grab them!

One, built like Schwarzenegger with arms as thick as utility poles, seeing the male journalist still struggling, landed him a slap...

And sent his teeth flying!

Good lord...

He knocked him out cold.

Goebbels furrowed his brow, paused his step, "We didn't use Incendiary Bombs; we used smaller Flame Bombs. It was unexpected that it caused a fire. We are deeply saddened, which is entirely different from the American's use of Incendiary Bombs during the Vietnam War!"

???

How could you have the audacity to say that?

Why don't you say it was a fart that exploded.

Brazen lies, simply lawless.

"Mr. Goebbels, what are your thoughts on Japan's request at the United Nations for UN troops to intervene in Mexico?" an Asian-descent journalist piped up.

Sly as a rat, those eyes... tiny as hen's eyes.

"Japan?"

Goebbels furrowed his brow, "I'm sorry, I don't know any Japan. All I know is the American Embassy in Tokyo."

"Please, a country with no independence should cut the crap!"

...