Working as a police officer in Mexico

After a long pause, he sighed deeply.

The third brother, Chepe San Cruz and the fourth, Herrera, were instantly panicked.

Brother, don't sigh! You're our backbone!

"There's no way out..."

These five short words were full of indescribable bitterness and unwillingness.

"Boss, don't be so pessimistic..."

"I'm not pessimistic..." Gilbert spoke up, then glanced at several military advisors, forcing a smile and speaking in English, "Mr. Orleans, why don't you all go take a rest? We need to discuss some matters."

"No problem."

The group of white men nodded and left. Despite not understanding Spanish, their expressions looked very grim, as if tomorrow everything was going to collapse.

"I'm desperate!"

Gilbert shook his head and sighed, "Medellin is hopeless, and the Allies have begun to assemble troops in the Bogota capital circle. Without air superiority, we won't be able to last long..."

What's the name of the largest organization structure in the world?

Nation!

"All we can rely on now is popular support; let's issue a bounty order for Allies soldiers. Killing a regular Allied soldier will reward you with 20,000 Colombian Pesos! Killing an officer will reward 200,000!"

"Moreover, we can't engage them in urban warfare; we'll need to leverage the terrain of the Cauca Valley Province and fight guerrilla warfare in the Cordillera Mountains and tropical rainforest. Those Allies from the big cities can't bear the heat here."

"Also, we need to bribe the Colombian government officials fiercely; we need to know their every move. If possible, we should also bribe the military personnel within the Allies, 500,000 US dollars, 1 million, if not 3 million! 10 million! I don't believe anyone can resist the onslaught of money!"

Gilbert became somewhat excited by the end.

But isn't this also a kind of powerless roar?

Besides money, it seems like there's nothing else they have.

From the perspective of morality or any other aspect, Colombia is the legitimate party, recognized by the United Nations, and the others are all rebels!

"And most importantly..."

"Find a way to get our relatives out, don't go to Europe or stay in North America, send them to areas in Mexico that haven't been affected yet."

"Then there's only the Mariana Trench and Mount Everest left," William Rodriguez Orehuela mumbled at this point, but was immediately glared at by his uncle and dared not say more.

"Go to Myanmar, go to the Middle East, go to Russia, go anywhere as long as they could survive. Staying here is a dead end."

"Don't let anyone else know about this, Herrera, I'll find a way to report your death, then... you take them and leave."

Fourth brother Herrera opened his mouth, "Brother..."

"You are more low-key than us, and our family cannot be lost by our hands, thank you for your hard work."

Herrera, who has always served as the technical chief officer and indeed appeared less often, was just the right person.

"Victor, fuck you!" The third brother Chepe San Cruz cursed.

Look at him...

He was truly anxious.

If it really doesn't work, then surrender; dead you could reincarnate sooner, Victor could even let you cut in line.

Resisting only leads to a dead end.

At the Allied headquarters in Bogota.

Erich Manstein sat in the conference room, looking at the noisy British, French, and German officers, feeling a headache.

He spoke to the Major General, Frederick von Paulus, by his side, "Can I give each of them a hand grenade?"

The latter laughed awkwardly, waving his hand quickly, "No need, no need."

He stood up, tapping the table, "Quiet, quiet!"

But these people continued with their ways.

Erich Manstein suddenly stood up, grabbing the pistol from the table and aiming it at the ceiling, "Bang bang bang bang!"

Fired four shots!

Then aimed at them, grinning, "The last bullet, anyone who prattles on, I'll shoot them dead!"

...