Working as a police officer in Mexico Chapter 1791: 792: Using a Woman to Humiliate a Class! (Part

Capítulo 1791: Chapter 792: Using a Woman to Humiliate a Class! (Part 2)

His relationship with Diana has always been a headache for MI5 and MI6.

Wearing the green hat…

“What’s he doing in London at this ti?” Graham frowned, “Is there any monitoring content at the Paris Station?”

“No. Fayed used an encrypted satellite phone, we can only trace the signal location, unable to decipher the content. But monitoring his assistant’s regular phone yielded an information—Fayed has brought a ‘special gift’ for the Princess this ti, said to be ‘sothing she’s always wanted’.”

“Sothing she’s always wanted?” Graham chewed on the words, suddenly having a foreboding feeling, “Imdiately strengthen the surveillance on Diana’s residence.”

“Officer, this requires Buckingham Palace’s approval, and the Princess herself has always been against our people following…”

“Then have MI5 coordinate!” Graham raised his voice, “The Royal Family can’t afford any more accident! If sothing happens to Diana, the public’s anger will turn us all to ashes!”

He walked to the window, gazing at the London night scene outside, murmuring, “I have a bad feeling.”

…

xico City, late at night.

Victor sat in the study, spreading out a dozen files in front of him.

All were about mbers of the British Royals and senior officials—Prince Charles, Princess Anne, Duke Andrew, Foreign Minister, Minister of Defense… even including the currently “resting” Queen.

Casare stood by, holding his breath.

He had followed Victor for many years and rarely saw the leader study a specific target with such concentration. Normally, Victor only looked at the big picture, leaving details to his subordinates. But this ti was different.

“Diana Spencer…” Victor’s fingers stopped on a photo.

The woman in the photo had blonde hair and blue eyes, a bright smile, leaning down to shake hands with African children.

It was a news photo from her visit to Angola in 1992, annotated beside it: “The most publicly influential royal mber”, “Separated from Prince Charles”, “Enthusiastic about charity and human rights”, “Has publicly criticized certain British governnt foreign policies multiple tis.”

“She said in the BBC interview last year, ‘The Royal Family needs modernization, needs to be closer to the people.'” Casare spoke softly, “It’s said that interview made the Queen quite unhappy.”

“She also said,” Victor flipped to another clipping, “‘The colonial history of the UK in Africa needs to be reexamined’, ‘The Northern Ireland issue should be resolved through dialogue’, ‘The high military expenses squeeze out social welfare’… such an idealist.”

“Also a troublemaker.” Casare added, “The Royal Family doesn’t like her, the governnt doesn’t like her, but the public loves her. If sothing happens to her…”

“If sothing happens to her.”

Victor raised his head, “And if she’s found dead in her lover’s bathtub, stark naked… can you guess what the British public will think? How will the Royal Family explain it? How will the world dia report it?”

Casare felt a chill down his back: “Boss, are you saying…”

“The British killed seven of our people and want to dismber our scientist’s family.” Victor’s voice was frighteningly calm, “They think hiding behind the English Channel makes them safe? Think the Royal Family’s halo can protect them? I’ll show them that xico’s fury can burn anywhere.”

“But Diana herself… she wasn’t directly involved in those matters.” Casare hesitated rare, “And her international image is good, if she dies, the public opinion will be very unfavorable to us.”

“Public opinion?”

“Casare, don’t you understand yet? Public opinion can be manufactured. A ‘straying Princess’ and her ‘foreign lover’ secretly eting in a villa, killed in a mishap by old electrical wiring, what a tantalizing and tragic story. The dia will crazily report the details, the Royal Family will desperately cover up the scandal, the public will relish the Royal Family mbers’ private lives… who will care how these two really died?”

He stood up, walked to the world map, and pointed at London’s location.

“What I want is not assassination, but humiliation. I want to tear down the last veil of the British Royals and let them streak globally. I want the world to see that this self-proclaid ‘beacon of civilization’ country can’t even protect its Princess. I want the British themselves to be trapped in a whirlpool of scandal and suspicion, having no energy to care about North Arica.”

Casare was silent for a few seconds, then asked, “Is it technically feasible? London’s security is very strict now.”

“Reinhardt is already in Europe.”

Victor said, “Last ti when protecting Dr. Castro, he casually left a group in several European cities. London has three people, all skilled, they’ll figure it out.”

“Yes.”

Just as Casare was about to leave, Victor called him again.

“One more thing.”

Victor’s gaze beca profound, “After the operation succeeds, don’t rush to release the photos. Wait for the British official to announce the death, wait for the Royal Family to start spinning the story, wait for dia speculation… when they most want to control the narrative, send those stark naked death photos to The Sun, World News Report, and BBC. Rember, make it anonymous but leave a slight clue—let the smart ones guess who did it but without solid evidence.”

“This is psychological warfare.” Casare understood.

“Exactly.” Victor sat back in his chair, “I want the British high-ups to feel humiliated!”

…

Three days later, London.

When Dodi Fayed’s private jet landed at Heathrow Airport, the sky was nearing dusk. He wore a tailored Italian suit, carrying a delicate gift box, with a confident smile on his face.