Chapter 1207: 589: Madmen, Princes, Madmen! (Part 2) - Working as a police officer in Mexico - NovelsTime

Working as a police officer in Mexico

Chapter 1207: 589: Madmen, Princes, Madmen! (Part 2)

Author: Working as a police officer in Mexico
updatedAt: 2025-09-14

Chapter 1207: Chapter 589: Madmen, Princes, Madmen! (Part 2)

The grip on his arm slowly loosened.

Pablo turned his head and glanced at Carlos Leder. The latter forced a smile but was ignored by Pablo. He lowered his head and looked at the doll that had been torn into several pieces, then knelt down with a thud, holding the doll, a look of sorrow on his face, rubbing his face against it vigorously.

Even Hollywood couldn’t produce such a twisted psychology.

Oqia and Carlos Leder slowly withdrew from the room, with the latter sighing, “Should we get a doctor to take another look? The boss’s condition is getting worse and worse.”

“Where can we find one? All the good doctors have been killed. In a month, 17 psychologists were murdered. Who would dare to come?”

Fuck…

Indeed, doctors have bad luck. In ancient times, if an emperor’s illness couldn’t be cured, they’d kill your whole family!

Now, if you can’t cure it, they’ll kill your whole family.

Oh damn…

What a fucking messed up world!

“Are we just going to watch him deteriorate like this? There are many voices within the Medellin Cartel now.”

Ochoa raised an eyebrow and instantly said murderously, “Voices? Who dares to speak? I think they’re bored of living and can’t tell the difference between the big boss and a little punk. We veterans aren’t all dead yet.”

“That’s easy to say, but our share in the first half of the year decreased by 21%, and profits fell 45% compared to last year. Several distribution channels have collapsed. Are we going to be eliminated from the mainstream market, and will we have to sell our drugs to penguins in Antarctica in the future?”

“The numbers don’t lie. If our brothers can’t eat, the voices can’t be silenced. How long has it been since you went through the channels? Our people are almost all scattered.”

Ochoa said sullenly, “Then why didn’t you mention this to the boss just now?”

Carlos Leder’s face turned red, “I… I was afraid, wasn’t I? Otherwise, I’d have been shot too.”

His words sounded pitiful…

But Ochoa didn’t find it amusing at all. Instead, he felt a bit uncomfortable. Pablo used to be wild, but he was also good to his brothers and could listen to them. Now… it feels like a hero in decline.

He glanced back at the tightly closed door and then looked up at the overcast sky. “The more at times like this, the more we need to hold up the Medellin for the boss. We need to regain our prestige. Organize people to cause some trouble for the Europeans and Mexicans. I’ll personally go to Myanmar to talk about cooperation. The Three-leaf Association has U.S. military support. We have to work together.”

“It’s very chaotic there recently. I’d better go,” Carlos Leder said, frowning.

Ochoa looked at him and patted his shoulder, “No problem. Could it be more dangerous than being in Mexico? Back then, tens of thousands of Mexican soldiers couldn’t catch me. How could Myanmar stop me with a sailboat?”

This is his pride…

Hey, Victor, you couldn’t catch me!

The third chief, Carlos Leder, looked at the spirited Ochoa, and for a moment, he seemed to see a general with a painted face behind Ochoa.

Juarez Front!

James Gavin, the commander of the 82nd Airborne Division, was in the makeshift headquarters, his face dark and gloomy. The surrounding staff and senior officers dared not speak.

“Reinforcements! Reinforcements!!!”

“Can anyone tell me, where are the reinforcements? Where are the 3rd Mechanized Infantry Division, the 10th Mountain Division, and the 24th Infantry Division promised to me by the front command post?”

Including the 82nd Division, these all belong to the 18th Airborne Corps.

The liaison officer was a Lieutenant Colonel. His mouth twitched, and he braced himself, “Still in the process.”

“Process my ass!”

“Three days, how many casualties have we suffered?!”

“The 407th Brigade Support Battalion and the 1st Squadron of the 73rd Cavalry Corps in Juarez have almost been wiped out, and the remaining men captured, while my frontline troops have lost over a thousand men. You tell me it’s still in process.” James Gavin roared hysterically, grabbing the liaison officer and slamming him onto the table.

The officer was startled and screamed, “Commander, it’s not me. It’s the military inspector reporting to the military department, which needs to be relayed to the front command department, and they haven’t replied yet.”

“This is a battlefield! A battlefield! Do you still need instructions from the rear?” James Gavin asked incredulously.

The liaison officer chuckled awkwardly, “It’s the military inspectorate system’s regulation.”

“Norman, the Defense Minister, is just talking bullshit!”

The hot-tempered James Gavin blurted out in rage, and his words happened to be heard by the “military inspector” who had just walked in. The person? A female soldier?

Hm, she should be, with eye shadow on.

She was wearing a major’s rank, squinting her eyes, “Colonel James, you seem a bit discontented with The Pentagon. Is your loyalty in question?”

“My loyalty doesn’t need your evaluation. I ask you, where are the reinforcements? Where are they!”

“The military department has approved it, and The Pentagon is processing it. You need to be patient.”

This provoked James Gavin again, “I’ve lost thousands of men, my troops’ morale is dropping and will collapse, and you’re talking about processing? What rule is this? I think it’s you lot with your freakish ways causing trouble, turning The Pentagon into a mess with your LGBT antics. I’ll… I’ll kill you!”

Saying this, he was about to pull out his gun to shoot the other person.

Seeing this, the staff beside him quickly raised his hand, bang!

The gunfire made the military inspector scream in fear, her face turning pale.

LGBT actually first appeared as a term in 1988, but the related social movements and group identities can be traced back to the 1960s-70s, with the 1969 Stonewall Riots as a milestone, later gradually becoming politically correct.

Even the Thai military doesn’t want ‘ladyboys,’ but the United States does!

Can you not be pissed?

“Wait and see, this isn’t over.” The military inspector ran off, not forgetting to leave a harsh word before she fled.

The adjutant grabbed James Gavin’s pistol, “Commander, this is bad. Since the military inspector reports to the top, what if she makes a complaint?”

The staff nearby were all stunned and exchanged glances, a bit uneasy.

“The Pentagon is getting more and more foolish. I say, let’s just surrender. If not Mexico, then to Texas. It’s better than being here.”

In the corner, a Captain mumbled, and instantly everyone’s eyes fell on him, making the Captain panic. Seeing James Gavin staring at him, his face darkened, “Commander, I… just said it in jest.”

“Get out!”

The Captain grabbed his helmet and ran out, afraid of being executed if he was a moment too slow.

James Gavin looked at the remaining people and waved them out, “Everyone, leave.”

“Commander, should the troops continue their attack?”

He paused and hesitated, “Take a break first. If the rear isn’t anxious, why should we be?”

There was a hint of resentment in his words.

Who wouldn’t be upset?

Hearing his words, the officers nodded and left the command post. The adjutant deliberately lingered behind, waiting for everyone to leave before turning back. “Commander, I think you’re right. This military inspector from The Pentagon will surely displease other unit commanders too. This approach is too aggressive and sudden, especially during wartime; it will cause bigger waves.”

James Gavin slowly sat down. He picked up a cigarette from the table, but his lighter wasn’t working, clicking it several times without igniting. Annoyed, he slapped the table, complaining about the “Holy Emperor,” “Since Norman Schwartzkopf entered The Pentagon, he’s lost his awe of the battlefield. He’s no longer the War God of the Gulf War; he now seems like…”

Struggling to find a metaphor, he took a deep drag on his cigarette, clutching it between his fingers, frowning, “Like a dying serf who saw a throne within reach, struggling to climb up, and once he sits on it, his sanity is consumed by greed, tyranny, and despotism.”

James Gavin took a deep breath…

“Then let’s talk to Texas. I don’t want to betray the United States.”

The adjutant’s eyes lit up, patting his chest, “Commander, rest assured, Texas’s Ministry of Internal Affairs, Yude Wallace, is my stepfather!”

“????”

James Gavin looked at him, internalized his response, and finally spoke, “Your mom… your mom… surely knows how to pick.”

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