Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 741 Jesus could be a pirate too!
The White House, Situation Room.

This place has determined the course of many world events.

Let's put it this way...

The center of the world!

It is far more meaningful than those two towers.

George W. Bush sat at the head of the long table, his face ashen from staying up all night, with dark circles under his eyes.

"So, not only did Victor not stop in Portland, he also drove a wedge between us and Canada."

"He wants an unsinkable aircraft carrier to be placed in front of our house."

He raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the key advisors present, including the Secretary of Defense, the Chief of Staff, and the National Security Advisor. "It seems our neighbor has quite the ambitions."

Peace talks?

What's the point of talking now!

Doesn't George W. Bush have any pride? If Victor loves fighting so much, then let's fight to the death! When both sides can't take it anymore, they'll naturally sit down and have a proper talk.

He leaned forward, placed his hands on the table, and looked at the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the four-star general. "General, I'm not asking about politics or diplomacy right now. I'm only asking about military matters. In Maine, how can we hold them off and drive these Mexicans back into the sea? How can we destroy their damn fleet? How can we remove that damned thorn in our side on that island?"

"Sir, the urban warfare in Portland will be extremely brutal, but the urban environment also limits the Mexican army's technological advantage. We need to send our most elite light infantry and special forces to Maine to fight a close-quarters battle based on squads and platoons that we are familiar with. At the same time, we need to mobilize all available air power to continuously strike its landing zone and logistical lines."

He pointed to Maquias Seal Island on the screen, "As for this place, it must be taken down as soon as possible. We need to organize a joint air and sea strike to cripple its runways and facilities, and then have the Marines or Army Rangers carry out a landing operation to seize the island. The most crucial thing is..."

His finger moved to the red symbol representing the Mexican fleet. "We must seek an opportunity to concentrate the remaining surface ships and submarines of our Atlantic Fleet, with the support of the air force, to seek a decisive battle with the Mexican task force. They have suffered losses after the last air raid, and this is our chance."

Little Bush listened attentively, nodding occasionally.

He doesn't understand specific tactical maneuvers, but he knows how to use people and how to delegate authority at crucial moments.

"Following this line of thinking, I authorize the Department of Defense and the Joint Chiefs of Staff to be fully responsible for military operations in Maine. Any resources needed should be allocated with priority. If interagency coordination is required, contact me or the Chief of Staff directly."

He looked at his chief of staff, Karl Rove, and said, “You’re in the White House, coordinating to ensure that whatever the front lines need, we can provide from the rear. Don’t let bureaucracy hold you back. Also, tell the media that we are focused on only one thing right now: defending our homeland and saving our people. Nothing else.”

He then looked at Jonathan W. Green and said, “Mr. Secretary of Defense, you are personally overseeing things at the Pentagon. I want you to make sure every order is clear and every link is in place. Tell our lads in Maine that I and the entire nation are watching them and supporting them.”

"understand!"

After the meeting, George W. Bush smoked two cigarettes, then took out his phone and called Chrétien in Canada; they were good friends.

Ottawa, Prime Minister's Office

Kretty had just finished a heated and divisive cabinet meeting and was exhausted when his phone rang. He took a deep breath and picked up the receiver.

“It is I, George, a brave sailor aboard the HMS Montreal, heroes who defended sovereignty. On behalf of the American people, I extend my deepest condolences and strongest support to you and the Canadian people.” George W. Bush’s tone was sincere and powerful.

"And I think you've felt the pressure from our neighbors, haven't you?"

"The Mexicans are declaring war on both of our countries at the same time," Cretty said with a headache. "Victor is a madman."

“You’re right,” George W. Bush immediately chimed in. “Jean, Victor is a gambler; he’s trying to divide us. But he’s made a mistake; he’s angered two great nations at the same time. We can’t let him succeed.”

He paused, his voice becoming even more resolute: "I beg you, I beg Canada to stand with us. We need your fleet, your Skyhawks (CF-18 fighter jets), to fight the Mexican fleet together. We need your troops to help us retake Maquias Seal Island and take it down so that we can focus on solving the problem in Maine."

When Kretty heard the other person say that Maquias Seal Island was a beautiful, soft land, her brow twitched, but she knew that now was not the time to discuss this.

Domestic calls for war were at an all-time high due to the sinking of the HMS Montreal. He knew that if he refused at this moment, his government might collapse immediately, and from the perspective of national interest, allowing Mexico to gain a foothold on the North American continental shelf would be a long-term disaster for Canada.

Oh shit!

Everyone's acting like a subordinate, and you want to turn the tables and take charge? Kretty must be resentful.

Chrétien finally spoke, “Canada will not yield to this blatant aggression. Our fleet will fight alongside yours, and our air force will provide escort. However, regarding the island-seizing operation… we need a more detailed coordination plan. I cannot send my lads to their deaths.”

George W. Bush felt a weight lifted from his shoulders, and his tone softened somewhat: "Of course, my military advisors will contact your Chief of Defense immediately. We will share all intelligence and work together to develop an action plan. This battle concerns the future of North America."

The order was swiftly issued. The remaining surface ships of the U.S. Atlantic Fleet, including three Ticonderoga-class cruisers, five Arleigh Burke-class destroyers, and several frigates, weighed anchor and set sail north to reinforce the Gulf of Maine after completing emergency replenishment and readiness at Naval Base Norfolk, Virginia. Underwater, several Los Angeles-class attack submarines had already quietly moved forward, heading directly towards the Mexican coastline.

What is this called?
Besiege Wei to rescue Zhao.

At the Halifax Naval Base in Nova Scotia, Canada, several Royal Canadian Navy ships, including the Iroquois-class destroyers HMCS Iroquois and HMCS Huron, and Halifax-class frigates, departed port to join the southbound U.S. task force.

In the sky, US F-15 and F-16 aircraft and Canadian CF-18 Hornet fighter jets began joint patrols to compete for air superiority.

They've started fighting! They've started fighting!

...

On the special train.

Victor leaned back in his leather seat, listening to his staff officer's emotionless report of the latest military intelligence. "NORAD has detected a significant increase in the frequency of US air activity along the East Coast and at Halifax, Canada. CF-18s, F-15s, and F-16s have begun joint patrols. Satellite imagery and electronic surveillance confirm that a US task force, centered on at least three Ticonderoga-class cruisers and five Arleigh Burke-class destroyers, has departed Norfolk and is heading north at full speed. On the Canadian side, its main warships, including the HMS Iroquois, have also left port and are expected to rendezvous with the US forces. Based on this assessment, the combined US-Canadian naval forces will achieve absolute numerical and qualitative superiority over our mixed fleet within 36 to 48 hours."

The staff officer closed the folder and stood solemnly to one side.

Victor remained silent, his gaze fixed on the large North Atlantic chart spread out on the table. Secretary of Defense Kennedy was holding a red and blue pencil, sketching several arrows and circles on the chart, his expression more severe than ever before.

Kennedy's voice broke the silence: "If the Canadian Navy fully commits and joins forces with the U.S. without reservation, then Admiral Dönitz's mixed fleet will face a desperate situation. They have just experienced a fierce battle, and although they have achieved some successes, the HMAS Chimar Popoca is severely damaged, and the HMAS Tenochtitlan needs time to repair its deck. Their overall combat effectiveness has been reduced. Faced with the overwhelming naval and air power of the U.S.-Canada alliance, our fleet may cease to exist."

“Never to exist…” Victor repeated the four words softly. “You mean, the fleet we’ve built with countless efforts might be lost in the Gulf of Maine?”

Does that mean what we get from the US isn't hard work?
"This is the worst-case scenario, but the probability is not low."

Kennedy frankly stated, "We cannot place our hopes on the enemy's hesitation and mistakes. Although the Chrétie administration is cautious, under the immense pressure of the sinking of the 'Montreal' and the domestic clamor for war, the possibility of him choosing to fully align himself with the United States is rapidly increasing."

Viktor was silent for a moment. "So, besides a head-on confrontation at sea, do we have any other options? We can't just sit and watch our fleet be destroyed; that would be like cutting off our own arm."

Kennedy stepped forward, his tone becoming somewhat nuanced: "Sir, a head-on confrontation is the worst option. Perhaps we can try to win over Canada, at least to get them to shirk their responsibilities, or simply remain inactive."

"Quiet down Canada? How? Through military force?"

“No, it’s politics.” Kennedy took a deep breath, clearly this idea had been swirling in his mind for a long time. “We need to exploit the contradictions within Canada.”

He gestured, and the staff officer next to him immediately handed over two thin documents. Kennedy took them, opened one of them, and pushed it onto the table in front of Victor.

“The person in charge in Canada right now is Jean Chrétien,” Kennedy said, pointing to the photo and biography on the document. “He’s a typical ‘prudent’ type, or rather, a complacent and unambitious person. He’s after stability, maintaining Canada’s image as a ‘middle power’ in international affairs and domestic economic prosperity. He doesn’t like taking risks, much less gambling with the nation’s future. If the U.S. military asks him for help, he will certainly help based on the alliance and domestic pressure, but his ‘help’ will be reserved, calculated in terms of costs and risks. He won’t be willing to let Canada bleed too much or suffer too much loss for the sake of the United States.”

Viktor nodded, signaling him to continue.

Kennedy then turned to another document, which contained a photograph of a man with more angular features. "And this man, Opposition Leader Patrick, is completely different. He's a... uh, in our words, a standard anti-American, or rather, a radical representative of Canadian nationalism. He believes that Canada shouldn't be defined as an 'American lackey,' but should have its own independent foreign and defense policies. And, according to our intelligence analysis, he has a very... interesting idol."

"An idol?" Victor picked up Patrick's file and casually flipped through it.

“It’s Robert Ross,” Kennedy said, then looked at Victor expectantly, as if he thought the other should know.

Victor's face was blank. He blinked and looked at Kennedy, his eyes clearly asking, "Who the hell is this?"

The atmosphere became slightly awkward. Kennedy was also taken aback, seemingly surprised that the leader had no recollection of this historical figure.

Just then, Casare, who had been listening in, stepped forward at the opportune moment. He smiled and touched his smooth head, saying to Kennedy with a self-deprecating tone, "Mr. Secretary, look at my memory. I've forgotten all my history. Is this Robert Ross famous? I don't think I've ever heard of him."

He cleverly took the blame for the awkward situation himself.

Kennedy immediately snapped out of his daze and quickly explained, “My apologies for not being clear. Robert Ross was a British general in the early 19th century. During the War of 1812, he led thousands of well-equipped British soldiers, many of whom were Canadian militia, in a counter-offensive from the sea. They swept through the enemy lines, reaching Washington, D.C., and ordered the burning of several U.S. government facilities, including the White House and Capitol Hill. He is the only military commander to date to have successfully captured and burned the U.S. capital.”

Casare then gave a perfectly timed, exaggerated look of sudden realization, and said half-jokingly, "Wow! Burning down the White House? Is that Patrick's idol? Does he want to follow suit and lead troops to set the White House on fire again someday?"

Kennedy smiled knowingly, but his tone was serious: "Perhaps, but it also symbolizes a deep-seated desire in him to break American hegemony and reshape the North American order. He has publicly criticized the United States more than once, attacking the erosion of Canadian sovereignty by American cultural and economic penetration. Therefore, I believe that if we can find a suitable way to gain his, or at least the understanding, or even tacit approval, of the political forces he represents, we can greatly restrain the Chrétien government, making them restrain their determination to send troops, or at least, get bogged down in endless infighting and wrangling over the issue of troop deployment."

Victor listened intently, rapidly considering the feasibility and risks of the plan. He suddenly looked up, his gaze piercing as he stared at Kennedy: "You say Patrick is an anti-American radical, I understand that. But we just sank their warship 'Montreal' and killed dozens of Canadian sailors. Will Patrick ignore this blood debt? Will he cooperate with us, the 'murderers,' just for the sake of anti-Americanism, or even just verbal anti-Americanism?"

Kennedy met his gaze and answered with unusual decisiveness, even a hint of coldness: "Sir, the 'Montreal' may not have been sunk by us."

"Oh?"

"It could have been done by pirates."

Kennedy spoke calmly, as if stating a given fact: "In the chaotic North Atlantic, it's not unimaginable that unidentified, heavily armed 'pirates' or 'extremist privateers' would appear. Given enough profit, the truth can be dressed up however one pleases. Even..."

He paused, a hint of sarcasm in his eyes, "If the price is right, even Jesus could do it."

Jesus could be a pirate!

A brief silence fell over the carriage.

Victor looked at Kennedy, then at Casare standing next to him with a sullen expression, and suddenly laughed, a smile tinged with admiration.

"So, Kennedy, tell me, how do we approach this 'modern-day Robert Ross'? And what 'price' should we prepare to convince him that the warship was sunk by 'pirates' or 'Jesus,' and that he'll be willing to create enough trouble for us within his power?"

“These things should be left to the professionals. Perhaps our intelligence officers understand better what this gentleman needs.”

"If we can handle him, we can handle Canada."

Viktor nodded in agreement, finishing the remaining half of his cigarette to avoid wasting it.

"Everyone wants to be the boss, but now that the boss isn't completely dead, we're going to give him the final kick, pin him to the ground, and make sure he can never get up again."

"Nobody likes having a big butt pressing down on their head."

……

(End of this chapter)