CHAPTER 1362: CHAPTER 657: DEFEATING THE CAPITALISTS BY FORCE! (PART 2)

In reality? Mexico voluntarily gave up the huge spoils in front of them, and now "thoughtfully" expressed that the UK’s funding commitment to Brazil could be delayed. With what reason or face can the UK occupy an important position in the future "Amazon Fund" led by Mexico or even the entire South American security structure?

Absence is equivalent to being out!

However, what else can he say?

The domestic situation has already turned upside down, and the phones of the Prime Minister and Minister of Defense have probably blown up his secure line.

He must immediately, at once, roll back to London to face that political storm capable of toppling the government.

Brazil? South America? In front of the ruins of the Az Camp and more than twenty coffins draped in the national flag, they all seem so distant and unrealistic.

"Thank you for your understanding, General." Sir Johnson was filled with exhaustion and dejection.

"I... I need to report back to the country immediately. Regarding the fund, our Congress will respond as soon as possible." He stumbled out of the conference room.

The door to the conference room closed, and after a moment of silence, the French representative picked up his teacup, lightly blew on the steam, and looked meaningfully at Lundestat: "General, it seems some people’s backyard catches fire more easily than a tropical rainforest. The timing of this fire is indeed impeccable."

Lundestat picked up the message about the Az attack, as if it were just an ordinary briefing.

He said plainly, his fingers unconsciously brushing over the words "SA-7" on the message, "Alright, gentlemen, let’s continue. The UK’s share is temporarily shelved; this does not affect us from first determining the overall framework and initial operational plan of the fund. Brazil’s Quell Action is urgent. Let’s focus our efforts on investments that can truly bring long-term returns."

The meeting resumed, but the atmosphere was already completely different.

...

Northern Ireland, Belfast, inside a safe house.

Sean McCarthy watched the footage playing on the TV news of the Az Camp attack—burning vehicle wreckage, destroyed buildings, and the flags draping over stretchers—

alongside the host’s shocked and angry tone of voice.

On the faces of his companions beside him was a mix of vengeful joy and a hint of trepidation at such massive destructive power.

"The effect is even better than expected," a young member murmured, his voice a bit shaky.

Sean took a deep breath, suppressing the ripples in his heart, eyes becoming extraordinarily firm: "This is our power! It’s the response we deserve to London’s oppression! The ’Banker’ didn’t lie to us! This is just the beginning!"

He picked up the brand-new encrypted communicator, and the screen lit up with a freshly delivered brief message:

[Goods received, exceptional efficiency, the second batch of support (including sniping materials and intelligence package) will arrive at designated point A in 48H, maintain pressure, target: transport hubs and symbolic facilities, let panic spread.—Banker]

Sean gripped the communicator tightly, squinting at the TV.

Panic? No, what they wanted was a fire that spreads across the plains!

He looked at his companion: "Prepare to receive the next batch of goods, London’s pain has only just begun!"

...

London, 10 Downing Street, the atmosphere was tense.

Because of the Irish problem, it’s truly the reverse scale of the British!

The Prime Minister’s face was livid, listening to the Minister of Defense and MI5 director’s report, his voice shaking with anger: "Anti-air missiles?! On our homeland?! At our main military camp?! What is the intelligence department doing?! How did those weapons get in?! How did those resistance rats obtain such things?!"

"Prime Minister, we previously did detect some abnormal fund flows and small-scale weapons smuggling, but this level of heavy weapons, especially the SAM system, had no prior warning! The source...the source is still being vigorously investigated, preliminarily suspecting it might be from the Eastern European black market..."

The MI5 director’s forehead was covered in cold sweat.

"Suspect?! I want answers! Precise answers!" The Prime Minister slapped the table suddenly, "And compensation payments! The fallen soldiers’ compensation! Parliament was quarreling yesterday over the costs of the Colombia operation and the post-demobilization compensation budget, and now suddenly there are dozens more to add? Where’s the money coming from?! How do we explain it to the public?! How do we explain it to the mothers who lost their sons?!"

He sat back in his chair in dismay, overwhelmed by a huge sense of powerlessness.

The mess in Colombia hasn’t been cleaned up yet, and the news from Bogota about Johnson’s disgraceful blunder just came, and now the nation’s heartland has just been viciously stabbed.

The finances are stretched, military morale is low, intelligence systems are negligible, and the old wound of Northern Ireland is once again being torn open, bleeding profusely...this Empire, it seems, has become riddled with holes overnight, shaken by storms.

The UK is truly poor!

Among the five permanent members, damn...he’s even ranked sixth in GDP, it’s laughable, utterly useless!

"Immediately convene a COBRA (Cabinet Office Briefing Room A) meeting."

The Prime Minister’s voice was filled with fatigue, "Report to Her Majesty the Queen, and notify the Treasury Department, to find a way! Even if it means suspending some overseas projects! The homeland! Homeland security must be prioritized above all!" He thought of Bogota’s so-called "Amazon Fund", feeling a wave of bitterness.

Pause? Perhaps it’s not a pause, but being completely out of the game. The Mexicans truly have excellent means!

Outside the window, London was shrouded in dark clouds. The smoke from the Az Camp had already drifted into Downing Street, permeating the heart of Great Britain, bringing with it a piercing chill and endless panic.

...

Mexico City, the top floor of the National Palace.

Outside the window, the torrential rain pounded fiercely against the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, blurring the skyline of the vast city into a dim and misty silhouette.