Capítulo 1426: Chapter 682: Attack! Attack!
Director Eberstein’s formulaic attitude pierced through the last bit of fantasy in his heart; the other party didn’t even arrange any further eting schedule,
they were just “protecting” them in this luxurious hotel prison.
He took a deep breath, picked up the satellite phone, and dialed Austin’s dedicated line.
The call was almost imdiately answered, and Paul’s voice was filled with urgency and anticipation:
“Lawrence? How is it? Did you see Victor or Casare? What did they say?”
“No, big brother.”
Lawrence’s voice was full of fatigue and bitterness, “I didn’t see a single one of them; the one who ca to the airport was Eberstein, that police chief, only him. There wasn’t even a shadow of anyone from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.”
There was silence on the other end, with only Paul’s heavy breathing audible. After a while.
“The aning is already very clear, big brother.”
Lawrence’s voice was dry, “They don’t want to talk at all. The xicans are not bluffing, their troops gathering at the border is real, those news about the Indigenous people are just looking for an excuse to act, we… we are excluded from the ga, they might have already decided to enter the fray.”
“Bastard! Damn Victor! He forgot when he first…”
Paul’s voice trembled with anger, but halfway through cursing, that anger seed to be suddenly drained, leaving only a sense of powerless exhaustion. “Then… what do we do now?”
Lawrence walked to the window, looking at the splendid yet unfamiliar night scene of xico City, taking a deep breath:
“Big brother, we must make a choice imdiately, between Louisiana to the north and xico to the south, we must give up on one side, the war with Louisiana cannot continue anymore, we must cease fire imdiately, even… even ask them for help, at least our conflict with Louisiana is considered an internal issue, but xico… they are wolves coming to tear at our territory!”
There was prolonged silence on the other end.
Paul Constantine Stuart, the ambitious man wanting to beco Roosevelt, was now swallowing the bitter reality with difficulty.
The dream of competing with Louisiana, in the face of the reality of national survival, seed so laughable and fragile.
“You’re right.”
Paul’s voice was hoarse, filled with an unprecedented sense of frustration, “I understand, I will imdiately contact our middleman in Louisiana, try… try to cease fire, on your side, find a way, try to reach out to the xican high level, even if you can just et a deputy minister, test their bottom line, buy so ti.”
“I’ll try, big brother, but… don’t hold too much hope.” Lawrence felt extrely heavy-hearted.
After hanging up the phone, Lawrence felt a deep-seated exhaustion attack.
He sat on the sofa, taking drags from a dry cigarette.
…
Austin, the underground bunker of the Presidential Residence.
This was originally an ergency communication center, but now it beca the last fortress from which Paul Constantine Stuart issued his orders.
The air was filled with the sll of cigarettes and anxiety.
“The xicans… they don’t even want to talk…” Paul sat on the chair, fingers pressing hard against his throbbing temples, his brother Lawrence’s words “we must imdiately cease fire, even ask Louisiana for help” stabbed repeatedly at his nerves like an awl.
Bow to Louisiana?
This was harder to bear than death, he dread of turning the tide like Roosevelt, not wagging his tail pitifully like a defeated dog.
He always believed he could win!
He had imagined more than once, if he were involved in the Civil War, Washington would have nothing to do.
But reality was harsh.
It proved that he was now stuck, unable to move forward or backward.
To the south, xico was diligently fabricating excuses to start a war, to the east, Louisiana was launching fierce offensives, his powerful allies only focused on reaping benefits… Texas was really about to be torn apart.
“Mr. President…”
His personal assistant, a young man, carefully handed over a docunt, “This is our… a possible list of middlen we can approach with Louisiana, Jas Hopkins is at the top, he has considerable influence in Springfield, and… it’s said he has old ties with Louisiana’s Minister of Defense.”
Paul stared at the list, silent for a full minute, and finally, he took a deep breath, as if using all his strength, grabbed the encrypted satellite phone from the table, this phone line theoretically could bypass many regular monitoring systems, directly connecting to certain specific numbers in the north.
“Dial it.” His voice was hoarse, “Connect to Jas Hopkins.”
The phone rang for a long ti before it was answered, a slightly lazy and cautious middle-aged male voice ca through: “Who’s this?”
“Mr. Hopkins, I am Paul Constantine Stuart.” Paul tried hard to make his voice sound more stable.
There was a mont of silence on the other end, then a low, ambiguous chuckle: “Oh? The President of Texas?”
“Ti is critical, Mr. Hopkins, let get straight to the point.”
Paul forced himself to suppress his impatience, “The conflict between us now is a tragedy, a misunderstanding that makes friends grieve and enemies rejoice. Now, our shared nation is facing a serious external threat, a real threat from the south, I propose that both parties imdiately achieve a cease-fire on the current front, and explore the possibility of jointly addressing the threat.”
“Cease-fire? Joint response?”
“Mr. Stuart, it was your troops that first crossed the red line, it was you who claid to want to liberate Louisiana, and now you’re unable to withstand Louisiana’s pressure, seeing the xicans sharpening their knives, you rember the shared nation? Is there really such a convenient thing in the world?”
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