Chapter 312 Everything is determined by fate, and no one has any control over it!!

Chapter 312 Everything is determined by fate, and no one has any control over it!!

How much money do American journalists travel?

Damn it, Bolt can't even catch a hot bite.

When Richard James Kerr was carried out, the door of the building was crowded with people, and there were even reporters trying to get first-hand information.

Climb up the pipe.

"Mr. Clark, is the deceased the CIA director Richard?" A blond woman asked the FBI boss who came out, and the microphone was blocked.

He was still wearing clothes that showed his "enterprise spirit". Clark glanced at him, and the female reporter looked at him meaningfully, and the two of them had a matching look.

Good guy…

The dog is in heat!

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you this." Clark's eyes flashed and his words flickered, and he motioned to the staff behind him to carry the body to the funeral home's car.

These reporters don't care about you, they all thought he was the CIA boss anyway, so they went up one after another, and some wanted to pull the sheets.

A young man from the FBI wanted to stop him, but was stopped by the old man next to him, who winked at him.

The boss was standing nearby with his hands folded. What was he doing waiting for others to rush up to him?

This must embarrass the CIA!

When the sheets were pulled back, Richard James Kerr's "green" face suddenly appeared in front of everyone.

The snapping sound of the shutter came one after another.

The news swept the world immediately.

Tijuana Victor Hotel.

With 76 floors, it is one of the tallest buildings in the north.

This place was previously owned by the Benjamin Brothers, a Tijuana drug cartel, but was now confiscated and used to entertain foreign guests.

The 73rd floor is the nominal top floor, and the third floor above is not open to the public. It is mainly used by the top brass of the Governor's Mansion.

Donald Rumsfeld, who lived in a 100-square-meter suite, frowned as the cause of death of Richard James Kerr was being broadcast on TV.

"According to informed sources, the director of the CIA died on his mistress's body. The drug she took irritated the blood vessels in the brain, causing the blood vessels to rupture..."

The news spokesperson of the TV station was trying to hold back his smile, and it was harder to hold back his smile than an AK47.

Even my own people can't stand it.

Director of the CIA, that's a high-level person in the United States. You must have been too frustrated to die, right?

Donald Rumsfeld, who had always prided himself on being shameless, felt blushing at this time. He kicked the coffee table with dissatisfaction and said to Nicholas Trans, the deputy commander sitting next to him, who was also a distant American strategic figure. "You can put a dog in the CIA's position, but it's not really a dog. Bush's glasses are of no use except for looking at money."

Seeing him criticizing his own leader, Nicholas Terrance could only laugh.

This old guard is famous for his explosive temper and doesn't like others to contradict him.

Many people don't understand why Donald Rumsfeld can be so "tyrannical". To name one of his achievements, he believes that "air force" will be the mainstream of the future. No matter how awesome self-propelled artillery is, can it be as awesome as aerial bombing?

This also laid the foundation for the U.S. military’s war model for the next few decades.

And he is so capable that there is no opposition from him in the Pentagon.

There are now rumors that the military prefers Donald Rumsfeld to serve as Secretary of Defense.

The next few terms are too hot!

"Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing? Guard, guard..."

At this moment, roars and dissatisfied scoldings suddenly came from outside the door, followed closely by curses.

"Go out and see what's going on." The old defense chief frowned, and the accompanying official sitting on the other side walked out.

I saw two American officials being pinned to the ground by big and thick guards, while a waiter stood next to them, pointing at him and saying something unknown.

The Americans in other rooms also came out and looked at each other in confusion.

"Hey, what are you doing? What are you Mexicans doing? Let go!" Someone pointed and said dissatisfied.

Unexpectedly, the guard pulled out his gun and yelled, "Don't move!"

The waiter spread the posters in his hands angrily, "You Americans are rude, you tore down the portraits of our generals!"

Americans, look at me and I look at you.

It's not something serious.

They even cursed the president in public. What happened?

"According to the laws of northern Mexico, they are suspected of blaspheming the leader!"

Finally, the American who was being held down panicked, "Help! Help! Help!"

Donald Rumsfeld, who was sitting in the room, also came out, his expression gloomy.

How many times have I said, don’t try to use American thinking to cause trouble in Mexico.

Isn't this looking for trouble?

"They are diplomats and have immunity as foreign teachers, and... they are members of the negotiating team. You are destroying relations between the two countries."

"The best course of treatment for arrogant people like you is to use 7.62." The waiter hummed twice without giving up at all.

"Call Victor and tell him that we agree to his request. Also, I hope he can forgive a few idiots!" The old defense chief said through gritted teeth, walked back to the room, and closed the door heavily.

Deputy leader Nicholas Trans narrowed his eyes. To be honest, he was a little shocked. When did Mexico become so feudal?

In the Governor's Mansion.

Victor was still a little confused after receiving the call, but he smiled and said, "Please rest assured, Mr. Donald, as long as they are straightforward, I will not suppress them. I will ask people to collect the bodies of the US soldiers. As long as the money and people are in the account, you can take them away at any time."

"Take them away first? Hahaha, Mr. Nicholas, you Americans are notoriously shameless. Don't try to get something for nothing here, otherwise, I will cut the bodies into pieces and sell them to farmers in Texas to feed pigs."

Bang!

After Victor finished speaking, he hung up the phone heavily and looked at the secretary next to him, Krista Schroeder, and joked, "A country produced by liars and bastards actually makes me believe in their morality. Do they have these things?"

Krista Schroeder smiled, but her smile was a little stiff.

"Are you worried about something?" Victor suddenly asked, picked up the Camel cigarette on the table, propped his elbows on the table, lit it up and asked casually.

Then he threw the lighter on the table and looked at her, "Don't hide it from me."

He had long noticed that the other party was in a bad mood, but they were at war, who would care about a woman's mood?

There are always a few days like this.

But now the haze on his shoulders has disappeared, and Victor is also interested in asking a few more questions.

After all, she is someone close to him.

Ms. Christa Schroeder looked at Victor with a complicated expression and opened her mouth, "I'm pregnant."

? ? ? ? ? ? ?

Victor's hand froze, and he turned his head, his eyes a little confused, and... a little dull.

His first action was to put the cigarette into the ashtray and put it out.

The facial expression was very happy, but a little solemn, frowning, pulling the corners of his mouth, looking at him, "When did it happen?"

Christa Schroeder saw his expression and her heart sank, "Two months."

Victor took a deep breath and didn't ask the other party if she wanted to have a baby.

This kind of question is too stupid, which woman doesn't want to be a mother?

"In the future, you can be the office director. Leave the small matter of delivering documents to others. If you don't want to work, then don't go. I will give you 200,000 US dollars every month."

"No, I can work, I can still do it."

"I can give you everything you want, but you must know that I can't give you the identity you want, and don't think too much. I have a good relationship with Belsaria."

Even if there is a conflict with the United States, it is not a conflict with the Rumsfeld family behind it.

Moreover, after seeing the power of the northern Mexican army, the old man Donald may still be thinking about it in his mind.

Krista Schroeder was silent. She was very unwilling in her heart. She was Victor's woman, and the children she gave birth to should receive the best resources!

Like the children of the British royal family!

Trained from childhood.

But she is also a smart person. She knows that if she disagrees or even makes some excessive demands.

Victor will make her disappear.

Strictly disappear.

"I... I understand."

Victor nodded and held the phone, "Please ask Casare to come see me."

About three or four minutes later, Casare, sweating and panting, came in hurriedly.

"Why are you in such a hurry?"

"Boss, you called me, no matter how far I am, I have to come."

Victor nodded and pointed to the secretary next to him, "I want you to take care of Christa Schroeder, she is pregnant."

Casare's brain crashed, and he almost blurted out congratulations, but he, who already had some political acumen, immediately thought something was wrong.

The boss's woman is pregnant, why do you want him to take care of her? This... is unreasonable.

It has to be said that some people are just suitable for this job. He glanced at Victor's expression, figured it out, and patted his chest, "Boss, leave it to me. I will raise her child as my own."

"Only the three of us know about this..."

"Boss, Christa Schroeder will live with me in the future. If necessary, she will "marry" me, and the child will be mine."

Victor nodded with satisfaction.

"What do you think?" He looked at Christa Schroeder.

The latter was a little sad.

"Go down and rest, let me talk to Casare."

Christa Schroeder wiped her tears and pretended to be strong and left.

"I know what this woman thinks. I can't let her fantasize. Otherwise, the inner house will be unstable. The child she gives birth to can be my first child, but it is impossible for her to inherit everything from me."

Casare nodded.

The story of the prince and the ugly duckling is just a story, just like why do literati like to write about the supernatural and like to have an affair with female ghosts?

It's fresh when it doesn't exist.

After all, power, wealth and status are transmitted through blood.

If Victor's future wife is Bertha, it will bring a lot of political results. The Northern Army needs this "backer"!

"That will be my first child." Casare said with a smile.

"Thank you for your hard work."

"Why are you saying such polite words, Boss? You gave me everything. Even if you let me die now, I will not hesitate!"

"There is no need for us brothers to say these things. Work hard. Kwaukmote is an outsider after all."

Casare was stunned, and his mind went blank in an instant.

This seemed to say: The prince is ill, you work harder.

When he came out of the office, he still had one sentence in his mind, can I be president?

Can I?

But soon his eyes became clear.

If you follow the boss, you will be able to do it! !

He checked his watch, went downstairs, got in the car, and drove towards the mental hospital not far away.

There are guards at the door, armed with guns!

When he saw Casare, he saluted and let him go.

In a garden of the mental hospital, he saw his mother, who was being pushed by a nurse. Her long hair had been shaved short. She was sitting in a wheelchair, holding a bear in her hand. Her eyes were dull and she had lost a lot of weight.

Camila Sodi was too noisy in the hospital and often talked nonsense.

For example, my son helped Victor up!

My son is the real Governor.

Casare had his mother increase the potion and turned her into a real mental patient.

He walked over and waved to the caregiver, who nodded and left.

"Mom, I'm here to see you."

There was no response from the other party, so Casare squeezed her shoulders gently, as if chatting normally, "Mom, have you eaten?"

"meal?"

When Camila Sodi heard this, she reacted very slowly, "Food, yes, I want food, my Casare hasn't eaten yet."

She said and touched the bear in her arms, "Don't be afraid, Casare. Mom is here. Mom will cook for you right now. I will make sure you are full."

"Boss, can you give me some money? I...my child has no food to eat. I want to buy him a piece of bread. Just give me 10 pesos. Thank you, boss. Thank you, boss." Camila Sodi began to talk nonsense. , and kept nodding, as if thanking someone.

"Eat, hey, Casare, eat more and grow taller. Then you will be successful. Don't drink or sell drugs like your father. Study hard. You can eat. Mom has eaten. , I ate in the factory, with big fish and meat, and it was very good.”

Casare stood behind Camila Sodi, listening to her murmur, raising his head, and his eyes were wet with tears.

He recalled that when he was a child, he had a cold and a fever of 38°C. His mother carried him on her back and braved the heavy rain to beg someone else. She knelt in front of a drug dealer, hoping that he could save him. At that time, the other party saw that his mother was very strong and gave him 10 US dollars.

It was this $10 that saved my life.

"Casare, don't be afraid, mom is here, mom is here, mom is not hungry, mom is not hungry..."

Casare burst into tears all at once. His shoulders trembled silently, and he hugged Camilla Sodi from behind and pressed against her face, "Mom, don't blame me. Don't blame Casare. You are causing too much trouble." Now, if my son is not cruel, your life will be lost!"

"Casare...my son." Camilla Sodi's eyes were empty and she just muttered these two sentences.

Don't look at the boss who is very kind to you.

But if he doesn't do it himself, Victor will let others help him!

The sky is still very blue.

but…

Everything is fate, nothing is up to you! !

…