Working as a police officer in Mexico

Peter Peterson and Larry exchanged a glance, feeling a bit uneasy inside.

Victor definitely has a reason, he's not making excuses; he's very angry right now.

"Our consulate in Brazil was bombed last night, resulting in the deaths of the ambassador, military officer, and 11 staff members. Additionally, two investigators from the Mexican Drug Enforcement Agency's Brazilian branch were found hanged outside a large tree in the Villa Andrade slum in southern Sao Paulo, having been tortured before their deaths."

Jeff Bennett, Director of the Mexico Counterintelligence General Bureau, handed Victor a stack of photos. Victor took them and glanced at them, his expression turning grave.

The bodies were hanging on a large tree, completely naked, with XXX stuffed in their mouths, and their blood had already coagulated. Hundreds of dense needle marks were visible, and Spanish writing on their bodies read: Bastard Victor, a warning from the Capital First Command!

"These two investigators had recently helped the Drug Enforcement Department and Sao Paulo police force capture two drug transport ships at a port, transporting two tons of Hell No.2. A gunfight ensued, killing seven people."

"This is retaliation," Victor looked up and asked.

Jeff Bennett nodded, "Only a few high-ranking officials and we knew the identities of these two investigators. I think... we've been betrayed."

"I'm raging right now, Jeff. Those Brazilian drug traffickers know these are my people and dare to pull such stunts. What's this? A provocation!"

"What does Brazil say?"

"Still under investigation..."

"Damn it, by the time they're done investigating, Jesus will be pregnant." Victor looked at Jeff Bennett, "Let's use our own methods, find out which high-ranking official is behind this, our people can't die for nothing."

"My warehouse is missing a layer of human skin, peel theirs off for me!"

Jeff Bennett took a deep breath, "I know what to do now."

When the boss says peeling, then it's peeling.

Are you kidding?

Capital First Command?

Interesting!

…

Washington street. Homeless assistance mobile station.

It's really just a cart, pushing some food around.

A dense line-up formed with many people, all passersby staring at them with disdainful looks, covering their noses and keeping a safe distance.

Homeless people are unstable elements!

Trevor Webster kept his head down, emitting a foul stench, dragging his injured leg, the result of a battlefield wound, holding a bowl in his hand, numbly extending it out.

"Are you a veteran?" Suddenly a voice asked.

Trevor looked up, seeing a black man staring at him, his eyes fixed intently, Trevor nodded, took the food and was about to leave.

"Wait."

The black man stopped him and handed him a ticket, "There's an address there, a surprise awaits you, maybe it'll change your fate, buddy."

Trevor Webster frowned tightly, pushed out of the queue by those behind him, he picked up the ticket which read: "Neos Veterans Cinema," with the address written below, not far away.

He wanted to throw it away, but for some reason a voice told him to go there, it could change his life.

He bit into his bread, dragging his lame leg towards the address.

He saw the cinema entrance was small, barely large enough for one person to pass through, two people stood at the door, appearing vigilant, but relaxed their brows upon seeing him, "Are you here for the movie? Ticket please."

Trevor Webster handed it over, the person glanced at it and motioned him to enter.

"How do you know I'm a veteran?" He asked hoarsely.

"In the United States, only veterans end up like this." One said.

Damn!

Directly rendered Trevor speechless.

He walked in silently, not a large space, but already a hundred people sat inside, looking all messy, most even homeless, Trevor noticed someone holding a dog.

He found a seat and sat down, there was even bottled water beside him.

Bang~!

The lights went out.

The big screen began to show a film.

Bang bang bang!!

Gunfire suddenly erupted, Trevor Webster shivered all over, muscles tense, it felt like he was back on the battlefield, his eyes turned fierce, staring hard at the screen, breathing was a bit ragged.

War trauma.

Many people in the cinema had similar reactions.

It was a documentary, an American soldier was wounded abroad, returned home but couldn't serve due to disability, retired receiving $60,000. Everything seemed fine until the disability started; VA required him to pay back the severance or they wouldn't give disability benefits.

!!!

Why's that?

Ancestral legislation.

Only one option, but many didn't know.

You say no? It's still taxable and fined.

The protagonist, screwed by this, went bankrupt, house repossessed by the bank, became homeless, the military sent him a fine for losing ammo box and artillery during withdrawal, demanding compensation.

No money, had to sell blood, only $6 a time.

Then once he got sick, went to VA-provided veterans' medical center for help, waited a year, received silence, an angry protagonist caused a ruckus at the bureau, then... got arrested, fined $400 for damages.

Credit blacklisted, lost housing and job subsidies.

This wasn't over...

His deteriorating condition led to a swift death, he strangled his dog before dying, looked back on life filled with sorrow; his body dragged away posthumously, local government harvested organs to sell for hospitals, remaining parts turned into fertilizer to continue serving the United States. (Real case!)

And at the end of the documentary, a sentence appeared:

"Why do those high officials get to bask above, presidents, dignitaries, even tycoons, born with fortune?"

"Are those crowned and commanded born noble?"

"I'm not convinced!"

"If possible, I'd grab a rifle and storm the White House, break into Parliament, questioning them, how many lives do you have to ignore us so!"

"Sadly..."

"I have no more 'ifs'."

Trevor Webster was shaking all over, a fire of anger raging inside his chest, his eyes turned red cause every scene in the documentary mirrored his own life!

Even being a soldier comes with tax, damn it, meals and lodgings need payment, post-disability, has the VA ever offered comfort?

No!

They just coldly say, remember to pay up.

F— off!

Trevor Webster's head now filled with one sentence, "Why do those high officials get to bask above, presidents, dignitaries, even tycoons, born with fortune!"

Sizzle sizzle~

Sounds rang in the cinema, "Homeless, homeless, why would you rather commit suicide than rise up against?"

"Ha ha ha, cowards and weaklings only let themselves perish, never daring to question the elite!"

"Who the hell are you, what do you want to do!" Someone stood unable to contain and asked loudly.

"Who am I? I once served in the U.S. Marine Corps, who am I, I was once America's hero, now America's annoying expendables!"

"I'm not willing to die just like this, why did I bleed for this country, yet those above feasted easily with my benefits, they used my money on whores, buying luxury cars... I'm unwilling!"

"Under your seats, there's assault rifles, grenades, take them, to fight, overturn this nation that looks down on us!"

"Gentlemen, we're soldiers, not homeless, storm Capitol Hill, break into the White House, show those dignitaries they fear dying!"

Are kings and officials born noble!

...