Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 650 - 383: "The Manifesto Against Victor’s Hegemony!

Early in the morning.

Aldous Wendell approached his older brother with his own "Art of War."

"Did you come up with all these?"

Popovich, seated in the President's chair, looked at his younger sibling in shock, as the stack of "suggestions" in his hand was spot on.

From the Northern Army's tactical play to the grasp of the overall situation, and the timing of when to initiate small-scale combat, everything was crystal clear!

Aldous Wendell held his head high, looking like a victorious general, "Of course, Brother, I pulled an all-nighter yesterday!"

Popovich looked him up and down, his gaze filled with an indescribable complexity.

Had his family really produced a "military strategist"?

"Brother, we cannot hesitate in combat, we must be decisive. We have no retreat left. If we delay and the Northern bastards stabilize, it'll be much harder to counterattack."

Aldous Wendell urged him on, placing his hands on the desk, lowering his business voice, "If we defeat Victor and incorporate his troops, our family's influence in Mexico and even North America will grow."

"Why can't Mexico bear the Wendell name?"

Popovich's breathing faltered, squinting his eyes.

Both brothers saw in each other's eyes an ambition.

"Alright! Form the Central Coalition Forces, and you will be the commander-in-chief. Tell me whatever you need, and I'll fulfill it, including requesting American satellites. Just one thing, take Tijuana and capture Victor alive!"

Aldous Wendell's eyes lit up, standing straight like a soldier, "Yes, sir!"

The "Central Coalition Forces" camp was established!

Popovich immediately signed the order, mustering the entire army!

He went all in.

The gambler was on a roll.

370 km northwest of the Capital, Mexico City, at an elevation of 1997 meters in Guanajuato State, stationed here is the expensively assembled "First Infantry Brigade" of Mexico, comprising three infantry regiments, one armored regiment, one airborne battalion, and one artillery group!

A total force exceeding 23,000 men!

Their fighting prowess was also fierce; most were former armed members of the Northern drug traffickers.

Brigade Commander Lionel Powell, in full uniform and expressionless, swiftly walked toward the command center; soldiers at the door snapped to attention and saluted sharply.

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From this, it was clear...

The discipline was exceptional.

Both the Central and Southern regions knew, guerrillas could annoy the North, but to defeat them, the main army was necessary.

Among the 23,000, there were 600 American junior commanders, 200 Spanish commanders, and other European military officers.

Popovich had signed an "Officer Training Program" with them; European nations needed capable, experienced reserve officers, so they were pulled here.

One of the brigade commanders inside was a White man...

British!

Because of this unit, the United Kingdom had contributed funds and provided many conveniences, including fully British equipment, despite the shorter training period.

Less than 9 months!

Admiral Hastings Aik Ojinlayek!

Many people knew his father, the famous Claude John Ael Oglivie!

That is, the British commander in the African Alaman campaign.

Hastings was the youngest son, born in 1941 when General Ojinlaye was already 57 years old. From a young age, he was strictly disciplined by his father, sent to Scout School at 16, and later admitted to Sandhurst Royal Military Academy. In 1982, he was the commanding officer of the 8th Battalion of the 9th Infantry Brigade of the British Army, at 41 years old.

Then, with his father's influence, he rose through the military ranks year by year.

Promoted to Admiral in 1990, he was dispatched to Mexico to serve as the commander of the newly formed "First Infantry Brigade." If he performed well, upon returning, he was sure to be an Admiral.

With the rigidity of a British soldier, hearing footsteps, Admiral Hastings Aik Ojinlayek looked up and, raising an eyebrow, said with a smile, "Brigadier General Powell, what's the matter?"

"Are we going to war with the Northern Army?"

"Yes," the other man replied without evasion, nodding.

"Have you fought against the Northern Army before? What kind of opponent is Victor? Their numbers are greater than our bullets, do you understand?!" Powell shouted excitedly, slapping the table, "We have absolutely no way to counter their integrated air and ground tactics!"

Admiral Hastings Aik Ojinlayek furrowed his brow, loosening the cigarette from his hand and pressing it into the ashtray, "Are you scared?"

"I heard you used to be a subordinate of Benjamin of the Tijuana Cartel, you've clashed with them. Are you frightened from being defeated?"

Bang!

Admiral Hastings Aik Ojinlayek slapped the table and stood up, "You should know what you are doing, you're undermining morale, I have the right to have you shot."

"It's because I've crossed swords with them that I know how terrifying they are."

A mix of memories and fright flickered in Powell's eyes, "They charged at us shouting 'Long live drug enforcement', our machine guns blew apart their bodies, but more and more would pick up weapons and charge at us."

As he spoke, he lifted his shirt, pointing at his stomach, "A soldier, about 18 years old, stabbed me here, and I pierced through his neck, but I could clearly see the hatred in his eyes! The loathing for drug traffickers! He wanted to devour me!"

Powell took a deep breath, "Their troops have faith, I saw hope in their eyes, can you imagine?"

Admiral Hastings Aik Ojinlayek pursed his lips, faith?

While at Sandhurst Royal Military Academy, an old soldier who had served in the 29th Brigade's "Gloucestershire Regiment" taught him, a direct force of Montgomery.