Working as a police officer in Mexico Chapter 963: 501: The world always flatters the strong and d

Chapter 963: Chapter 501: The world always flatters the strong and demands morality from the weak!_2

The sound of gunfire and screams was incessant.

anwhile, it wasn’t any better elsewhere.

Over a thousand rockets whooshed, buzzing as they zood towards the border area.

The successive explosions instantly buried Israel!

And on a certain beach.

There was a music party happening…

A group of young people.

The sudden explosion and bright light instantly lit up half the sky.

“OMG! OMG!”

A blonde girl covered her mouth, exclaiming incessantly as she watched the flas from the explosion in the distance.

“What is that!”

A man in shorts next to her pointed into the distance and suddenly shouted, squinting his eyes, “Gliders… soldiers, run!”

He frantically pulled his girlfriend towards the car.

Panic and screams overshadowed the beauty of the music party…

But, so children in Palestine had never seen a party.

The sky was densely packed with paragliders breaking into the border city of Israel at low altitude.

The child from back then had grown up, drifting back to their holand like dandelions…

“Mom, I’m ho!”

As soon as their feet touched the ground, the warriors cut free from the paragliders and, holding their weapons, charged towards their centuries-old enemy.

In their eyes… was there any sha or fear?

“Charge!”

Soone shouted with raised arms.

“For dignity, for the nation, for family, kill the Israelis!!”

Why did those bandits barge into my ho, occupy my land, murder my family, then turn around and tell they are the indigenous people here?

And then…

Does the world stand on the high ground and condemn my ‘atrocities’?

“My father, my child, my wife, my everything has long beco a mory under the atrocities of Israel, so what right do you have to call violent?”

If you can’t empathize, then please just shut your mouth.

“If the war is won, what would you want to do?”

“I want…”

“I miss Mom.”

“What if you never co back again from this?”

“Then… let it be a journey of no return.”

“Victory belongs to Palestine! Victory belongs to humankind!”

…

Because the Middle East is a powder keg.

Especially these two ancestral enemies.

As this kicked off, North Arica’s Uncle Sam and so major countries soon knew.

After all, the United States was still bright.

Clinton hurriedly reached out to Old Donald at the White House for an internal eting.

“War… is going to expand.” Mr. President looked at the old defense minister across from him, frowning, “The entire Middle East will be drawn in.”

If outsiders saw his expression, they might think he was such a compassionate ‘great leader’.

But Donald rely glanced at him, with an utterly disrespectful tone, calmly saying, “Isn’t this exactly what you want?”

“Didn’t you have the Defense Secret Action Bureau intentionally blow up the Wailing Wall and then fra it on the Palestinians, just to ignite the Middle East and then…”

“Facilitate weapon sales and let Wall Street earn a fortune from war?”

This is easy to understand. If you knew in advance that there was going to be a war in the Middle East, wouldn’t you buy oil futures?

Surely you would, right?

A massive amount of capital would flow into Wall Street, and as oil prices soared, money would continuously flow to the United States. What’s this called? This is called a war dividend.

Upon hearing this, Clinton’s left cheek twitched, not knowing how his ‘little sches’ were discovered!

Does Donald have people inside the Defense Secret Action Bureau?

“You don’t need to know how I know. If you don’t want others to find out, don’t do it yourself.”

But these words instantly infuriated Clinton. He slamd the table hard, “I am doing it for Arica! Am I wrong for wanting Arica to be great? I’m not wrong!”

“The world is inherently dog-eat-dog. If we fall behind, do you think we still have a chance to rise? Impossible! A dead Soviet is good for the whole world, and a dead Arica is better for the world!”

Old Donald looked at him with a cold smile.

You think it’s my first ti on duty?

Are you pretending you’re a damned genius or sothing?

If you hadn’t invested in it, that would be the real surprise.

“I will ask the United Nations to classify the Resistance as a Terrorist Organization. They deserve to die. What right does the weak have to retaliate against the strong?”

Clinton waved his hand, a bit impatient, “Just make sure the troops are ready.”

“I won’t sign the order to deploy troops.”

The other party’s eyes widened suddenly, “I am the President.”

“Then remove from office.”

The old defense minister glared at him, finally looking at him with disdain, “What would a drug-addicted junkie know about state affairs!”

After speaking, he turned and left.

It exploded!

Completely exploded!

Have you ever seen soone get so desperately heated?

Clinton’s head was filled with blood, he opened the drawer, inside lay a Glock 17 Pistol, special for the Special Service.

He pulled the slide, raised his hand, and fired directly!

Bam bam bam!!

“I’ll kill you! Kill you all! Why do you all have to oppose , can’t you just quietly follow my orders?!”

Clinton gritted his teeth, his mind echoing with images of his own disgrace, betrayed by his “best” “Chief of Staff” Angel Urenia, who exposed many of his scandals, putting him in a passive position!

Even Parliant wants to hunt him down.

Can’t you die peacefully?

Why do you have to side with Victor!!!

And…

And there’s Miller, his own bodyguard, who deserted him and reportedly went to xico too.

Why?

Is Victor your old man!!

The long term pressure and aftereffects of drug use suddenly turned him into “North Arican High Yang”, and he actually shot at the Defense Minister in the office!

This was the fourth-ranked figure in the U.S. Governnt.

Donald clutched his wound, eyes wide in shock, staggeringly ran out.

And outside…

The office staff and special service personnel who had already heard the gunshots rushed over and saw Donald running out of the office.

Clutching his wound…

While Clinton chased after him.

Bam bam bam!

Another three shots.

At this point…

Even Jesus couldn’t withstand it.

Donald Henry Rumsfeld fell to the ground dead!

Everyone looked at this scene, dumbfounded…

Incredulous!

“Hahahaha, I am the King, I am the King, I am the King of Arica!!!” Clinton shouted loudly, raising his hand, looking completely deranged.

Thud thud thud…

Rushed footsteps.

Secretary of State Christopher Hutton was working next door, and he thought the President was in trouble; after all, when he rushed out and saw the scene in front of him, his brain’s CPU was stunned.

Seeing Clinton about to put the muzzle in his mouth, he flinched, “Quick! Quickly hold him down!”

The mbers of the Special Service ca to their senses, rushing over and snatching the gun, securing him in place.

“Hahaha, I am the King, I am the King!”

Christopher Hutton looked down at Clinton, who was like a madman, then glanced at Donald, his eyes narrowed, “Quick, call a doctor!”

The Special Service sealed off the entire White House, tourists were also driven out.

Union mbers working on the lower floors heard footsteps everywhere, but as they tried to leave the office, they were ordered to stay inside.

“Is there sothing wrong?” A black intern whispered to a companion nearby, “I saw a doctor rush upstairs hurriedly when I ca from the bathroom, there must be sothing wrong up there.”

His companion saw his excited tone, and gave him a puzzled look.

“Cough cough cough, no, I must go and see what happened.” The black person shook his head, full of gossip-like curiosity.

Doctors rushed upstairs, seeing Donald’s tragic condition, raised an eyebrow and shook his head, “There’s no saving him…”

“Save him! I said save him!!”

Christopher Hutton shouted loudly, “He can’t die here, do you understand?”

He was a bit crazy too…

Damn, Clinton, you bastard!

Do you know what kind of impact this will have?

You…

If you want to die yourself, why drag into it?!

Shooting the Defense Minister in the White House…

Sothing only those African countries would do.

The doctor, facing the eyes of the Secretary of State, instantly understood, swallowed, “He can still be saved… He can still be saved.”

Christopher Hutton paused in silence.

“Send him to the hospital, no one’s allowed to talk about this!”

Dying at the hospital versus dying on scene provides a lot of space for maneuver.

But Clinton definitely has to be dealt with.

There are so many people wanting to be President, you can’t let a madman do it.

“A madman?” His eyes suddenly turned to Clinton, handcuffed to the chair, who just raised his head, saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth.

Looking at him…

“Hehehe, I am the King of Arica!”

Christopher Hutton stared deeply at him.

Wondering whether he was really crazy or not?

But he knew…

xico’s Victor will definitely have sothing to say.

After all, he was Donald’s grandson-in-law!

Turmoil everywhere… Truly a ti of turmoil.

…