North American riot police: Start by arresting P. Diddy!

Chapter 262 "Only those who are prepared to be killed have the right to fire a shot."

News of the federal reconstruction cabinet spread like wildfire throughout the world.

As the world's leading power, any political developments in America's country attract global attention.

Especially Underwood, who had just become Speaker of the House a few months ago and then quickly secured the position of Secretary of State.

Turning the pages of America's 300-year history book, I've never seen a politician climb so fast.

Various media outlets rushed to label him, some calling him a political upstart, saying he was an opportunist who rose to power amidst chaos and seized opportunities during a power vacuum!

And our Secretary of State Underwood is indeed enjoying the most triumphant moment of his life, walking with a swagger!
"Hahaha"

In front of the State Department building, Underwood personally saw Attorney General Holder off at the door. The two chatted amiably, clearly having reached some kind of tacit understanding.

“In the past, our two departments did have a lot of friction, but most of it was due to poor communication and each side sticking to their own opinions, which led to unpleasant endings. I hope we can visit each other more often in the future and talk things out.”

"Of course, Frank, you've been in the position of party whip for so many years, your skills and connections are obvious to all, I know that."

"Haha, this doesn't sound like something you, Holder, would say. If Barak heard this, he'd think you, the iron-faced judge, had changed your ways."

"Barack"

When the name of the Black president was mentioned, Holder sighed: "His performance over the past six months has indeed been disappointing. Hopefully, he can pull himself together and stabilize the current turbulent situation."

"Have faith in Barack; I never doubt his abilities."

Underwood also sighed softly, then patted the Attorney General on the shoulder affectionately, arranged to have a wine tasting over the weekend, and personally saw him to his car.

As the Department of Justice convoy drove away, Underwood's smile gradually faded, but the corners of his mouth couldn't help but turn upwards.

Upon assuming the post of Secretary of State, his first task was not to deal with the mountain of diplomatic documents, but to meet with all the powerful ministers in the cabinet under the pretext of official business.

Firstly, I had just taken over the job and needed to familiarize myself with the situation and establish connections; secondly, I also wanted to privately find out everyone's true opinions about the president.

The results of his investigation over the past few days were even better than he had expected.

Whether it was the Energy Secretary and the Treasury Secretary whom Barack had personally promoted, or Holder, who had a close personal relationship with him and was even his classmate for many years, they all had reservations about Barack's judgment and decisions in the San Francisco terrorist attack, and complained about it in private.

Underwood flashed his signature political smile, waved to tourists taking photos outside the building, and then quickly walked back to the State House.

He took out his phone and dialed Jack's private number, the head of the California Counterterrorism Bureau.

First, he made a routine inquiry about the latest activities of the Cobra organization, and then casually mentioned that he had arranged for Jack's daughter, Ginny, to have the position of "Ambassador for Global Women's Issues".

That's easy to say, but anyone with eyes can see it's a lucrative job.

Not only can they become star figures in the feminist movement, but their social status will also rise dramatically. After ten years or so, they're guaranteed a high-ranking position as a women's affairs official at the United Nations—a golden opportunity for easy promotion!

On the other end of the phone, Jack couldn't hold back any longer.

This guy is usually stubborn and won't listen to reason, but he only has one precious daughter, so how could he not want to give her a good future?

Last time Washington was in complete chaos, he didn't let Ginny take over the congressional position, but this time he readily agreed.

Jack thanked him profusely on the phone, but his heart was pounding.

With the Counterterrorism Bureau's intelligence network, he knew all too well what Underwood was up to lately.

First they summoned cabinet members one by one for talks, and now they're trying to win over law enforcement agencies.

That old fox is definitely brewing something big; who knows what kind of trouble he's going to cause.

After hanging up the phone, Underwood hummed a little tune with smug satisfaction.

But as soon as he pushed open the office door, his smile froze on his face.

A package the size of a palm was placed prominently in the center of the desk!

He remembered clearly that the table was completely empty when he saw Holder out. Besides, who would dare to stuff something into the Secretary of State's office without asking?
Underwood instinctively reached for the Secret Service, but then pulled his hand back after it was already on the siren.

He hesitated for a few seconds, then closed the door and walked over to the package.

The sticky notes stuck on it were rustling loudly in the air conditioner.

"Respectfully presented to Mr. Francis Underwood – Rorschach"

Upon seeing the name, Underwood's face instantly turned ashen, and he abruptly turned his head to scan the room.

"This bastard actually managed to sneak into the State Building. Holy crap! All the Secret Service agents and security personnel in the entire building are complete idiots!"

After scolding him, she carefully examined the package and simply tore it open with her hands.

If Rorschach really wanted to kill him, he could have done it quietly without anyone noticing; there was no need to put a bomb in the package.

Sure enough, after tearing open the packaging, there was only an old-fashioned flip phone.

After turning on the phone, he dialed the only number stored in it.

Soon, that familiar voice came through the receiver: "You have more courage than I imagined, Mr. Secretary of State."

Underwood sneered, "Rorschach, what tricks are you playing? The whole world is after you! That's right! The whole world! More than a hundred countries, more than two hundred regions, and you still dare to contact me?!"

"Oh, don't get excited, old buddy."

On the other end of the phone, Rorschach's tone remained calm: "There are many people in this world who hate me. I may have cut off their livelihoods, ruined their futures, and even accidentally hurt their loved ones. But you, Francis Underwood, have no right to yell at me!"

His voice suddenly rose and then slowly fell: "Don't forget how you climbed from party whip to Secretary of State in just a few months."

“Hahaha, stop joking, Rorschach.” Underwood remained unmoved: “You killed someone, and I just took over his position. Should I thank you?”

"Frank, stop playing the victim," Rorschach sneered. "You've laughed more these past few days than you've in decades, haven't you? Or have you gotten so used to wearing a mask that you even deceive yourself?"

Underwood paused, remained silent for a few seconds, then lowered his voice: "Just say it, what do you want from me? If you want to get classified information from me, you've got the wrong idea. I never make deals with terrorists."

“Heh.” Rorschach chuckled dismissively, too lazy to expose his hypocrisy: “I know the Federation has been clearing out Cobra’s strongholds around the world these past few days. As a congratulatory gift for your appointment as Secretary of State, I have prepared a grand present.”

"I don't need terrorists."

"Cobra leader McCullen."

Underwood suddenly stopped mid-sentence, gripping his phone tightly, his voice strained: "What did you say? McCarran?!"

“That’s right. He’s in an apartment in downtown Washington, D.C., crippled, with plenty of documents around his neck to prove his identity,” Rorschach said calmly.

"You, the Spectre Party, have taken down Cobra's stronghold?!" Underwood exclaimed in shock. During this period, the five permanent members of the UN Security Council had been working together to eliminate Cobra's bases globally, achieving some results but with limited success.

But Rorschach quietly took over Cobra headquarters and even captured McCullen alive?

This guy just orchestrated the San Francisco terror attack a week ago, stole the "Staff" in Canada, and now he's managed to take down the "Cobra" organization.

Underwood is unbelievable.

He simply couldn't understand where Rorschach got so much energy and resources.

"From this day forward, there will be no more Cobra in the world, only Spectre," Rorschach declared emphatically.

Underwood's face grew increasingly grim. The other party's words were clearly announcing that he had completely taken over the power of Cobra and brought it under the complete control of Spectre.

“Actually, do you know, Rorschach, there is still room for maneuver between you and the Federation.”

Underwood's tone suddenly softened, and he coaxed, "Although you hacked into national television and claimed responsibility for the San Francisco and White House attacks, the focus of public opinion was on Cobra. The FBI conducted an internal poll, surveying the opinions of 100,000 people, and guess what? More than 70,000 of them considered you an American hero."

He continued to persuade her, "You are, after all, an American, aren't you? This country has indeed wronged you in some ways, but the culprits are mostly dead now, and your resentment should have subsided."

Underwood, who had initially been cold to Rorschach, immediately put on a friendly face and began to play the emotional card without any embarrassment upon hearing that the other party had taken over all of Cobra's assets.

But Rorschach remained unmoved: "Enough with the nonsense. McCarran's location and information on multiple Cobra outposts are saved in my phone's photo album. Consider it a congratulatory gift for your new appointment. This achievement will help you establish yourself."

These strongholds were remnants of the Cobra faction who resisted after Rorschach and his men occupied the headquarters, but refused to switch sides and join the Ghost Party, or even attempted to establish their own independent organization.

They didn't have time to deal with these "loyal" guys, so they simply let the Federation handle it.

Underwood naturally understood this trick of using someone else to do the dirty work, but he was more confused about Rorschach's true purpose.

“Keep a good job, Frank,” Rorschach said with a meaningful smile. “I’m waiting to see you sit on the presidential throne.”

Underwood sneered, "Heh, if I become president, the first person I'll target is Rorschach!"

Rorschach responded dismissively, "Only those who are prepared to be killed have the right to fire a shot. I look forward to that day."

Underwood narrowed his eyes, then suddenly changed the subject: "Have you heard a story, Rorschach?"

"what?"

"When I was my age, the Roman general Sulla led his army into Rome to quell a rebellion. Blood was shed everywhere. His greatest adversary was a young man named Marius, only twenty-six years old. After Sulla killed him, he held up Marius's head in the square and said to the boys watching: 'First, you must learn to row, and then you can steer.'"

Underwood said coldly, "You don't even understand how power works or how politics is played out. It's a pipe dream to think you can overthrow the federal government."

Rorschach was silent for a moment, then suddenly chuckled: "I don't really understand these things, but there's one thing I know better than any of you."

He stated unequivocally, "That is, violence is the ultimate force for changing the world."

Before he could finish speaking, the phone call was disconnected.

Underwood was left standing there alone, staring at his phone with an uncertain expression, lost in thought.

----------

the other side.

Having arrived in California, Rorschach crushed his phone into pieces and threw it into the sea.

He was on a sightseeing ship, dressed as a tourist, wearing sunglasses, admiring the natural scenery of the Monterey Strait.

As a coastal state, California has always been known for its Hollywood glamour, sunny beaches, and relaxed immigration policies, attracting millions of tourists from around the world every year.

However, since the shocking terrorist attack on the San Francisco coast, the number of tourists has plummeted, and California, once a tourist hotspot, has now become a plague-ridden place that everyone avoids.

Who would be willing to risk radiation contamination to vacation here?
The sightseeing boats, which used to be packed with tourists, are now deserted.

Including Rorschach, there were only a dozen or so people scattered on the deck, a sight that would have been unimaginable in the past.

However, unlike these tourists who only glanced at the sights, Rorschach came with a clear purpose.

The sightseeing boat stopped three nautical miles from the canyon. The tour guide explained through a megaphone, "This strait was designated a military restricted area after 9/11. You cannot approach it without permission. Please understand and try not to take photos or videos."

The sparse tourists on the boat looked in the direction indicated and saw several concrete bunkers standing prominently above the strait, with naval vessels patrolling back and forth in the distance, under heavy guard.

"Could there be an alien corpse hidden in here?"

"That's Area 51, in Nevada."

"Then tell me, what's hidden in this godforsaken place? How did the strait suddenly become a military restricted zone?"

"I bet they've spotted a sea monster."

The tourists whispered among themselves, making various guesses.

The tour guide smiled helplessly upon hearing these comments and offered no further explanation.

Strangely enough, this strait was originally open to tourists, but not long after the 9/11 attacks, it was taken over by the military. If any ship or aircraft intrudes within a three-nautical-mile radius and ignores warnings, the military can even open fire and sink or shoot it down.

There must be some major federal government secrets hidden here.

The female tour guide counted the number of people and checked the list, and suddenly realized that someone seemed to be missing from the boat—the tall, distinctive male tourist.

She hurriedly counted the number of people in her tour group, and only after confirming that there were no mistakes did she breathe a sigh of relief and rub her eyes.

"Strange, am I seeing things?"

at the same time.

Inside a bunker deep in the strait.

As soon as Jack hung up the phone, he immediately gestured to his adjutant and strode towards the helipad, where helicopters had been waiting with their engines running for some time.

The Secretary of State has just sent intelligence that the CIA has located multiple Cobra strongholds in America. Underwood has ordered him to take immediate action and cooperate with the CIA in a joint operation to eliminate them.

This was undoubtedly a favor offered by the other party.

But just before boarding the plane, Jack couldn't help but look down through the porthole, where the turbulent sea gleamed with a cold light.

The deepest secrets of this strait lie hidden within the Counterterrorism Bureau and even the entire Federation; they must not be lost.

Hopefully, Rorschach won't find this place so soon.
(End of this chapter)