Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 1630 - 747: You Think I’m Running a Charitable Hall?! (Part 2)
Chapter 1630 -747: You Think I’m Running a Charitable Hall?! (Part 2)
“Where’s the money?!!”
Little Bush growled, staring intently at Rove, “That 20 billion! The first installment! Why hasn’t it reached the soldiers’ hands?! Why is this still happening?!”
Rove shrank his neck in response to the yelling, his eyes flickering, stammering, “It’s being processed, sir, you know, the civilian system in charge of salary distribution, many were forced into furlough due to the shutdown, and now gathering them back takes time, plus, account reconciliation, system reboot…”
“Bullshit!”
Little Bush abruptly interrupted, laughing bitterly, his laughter filled with absurdity, “Three days! Carl! People are dying on the front lines! State is in rebellion, my army is scattering because they can’t get their damn money, and you’re telling me the payroll staff hasn’t come back to work yet?! What are they doing? Vacationing in Hawaii?!”
He pushed Rove aside, his chest heaving violently, pointing at his nose: “I don’t care what method you use! Connect me immediately with all reachable Battle Zone Commanders and Generals! I need to convene an emergency video conference! Now! Go prepare!”
Rove dared not hesitate any longer, scrambling toward the communication center.
One hour later, White House Situation Room.
The massive screen was divided into several segments, each showing a high-ranking officer in military uniform, their faces solemn, with varied backgrounds, yet all seemingly in battlefield command centers or fortified bunkers.
Little Bush sat at the head, now dressed in a suit but unable to hide his exhaustion and anxiety.
Without any pleasantries, he dived straight into the subject, his voice transmitted to every terminal through the microphone:
“Gentlemen, I believe some of you have heard the whispers. Tonight, in Indiana, the 11th Infantry Division has collectively mutinied and disbanded! And the reason is singular—money! Our soldiers haven’t received their full pay for five months!”
He swept his gaze over the faces on the screen, some shocked, others silent, some avoiding his eyes, speaking with heavy urgency: “I know, many of your units are also on the brink of instability. Here, as the Commander in Chief of the armed forces, I assure you, and also implore you, no matter what, stabilize your units! Control the situation!”
He paused, taking a deep breath, and presented what he thought was a reassuring promise: “The overdue pay will be distributed soon! The first emergency funds are already in place, and I ask you to convey this to every regimental commander, every battalion commander, every soldier, tell them, the nation has not forgotten them! The money is coming soon.”
At this point, a three-star vice admiral responsible for the logistics reserve in Kentucky couldn’t help but speak up, his tone skeptical yet urgent: “Mr. President, pardon my frankness, but how soon is ‘soon’? There have already been minor looting incidents in my unit’s supply stations, and the soldiers’ morale is like a powder keg! We need a definitive timeline!”
Little Bush looked at Rove beside him.
Rove hurriedly leaned into the microphone, trying to sound confident: “We guarantee, within half a month, all frontline combat units will receive full payments, while those in logistics will at least get an emergency subsidy equivalent to a month’s salary, the funding distribution process has begun!”
This promise caused a slight stir among the generals on screen, some seemed relieved, but most still had furrowed brows.
Little Bush seized the moment: “Convey this standard first! Frontline priority! Other rotation and reserve units, also ensure resolution within a month!”
He almost ground out this sentence through clenched teeth, knowing it was yet another hefty burden.
Fuck, like repaying a loan.
The meeting ended under a repressive and uneasy atmosphere.
The screens went dark one by one.
After the last general’s image disappeared, Little Bush collapsed into his chair as if drained of energy, rubbing his face, he looked at Rove, “Carl, tell me, this money will be enough, right? First for the frontlines, it should be enough?”
Rove’s body stiffened almost imperceptibly, “Five months of back pay, the amount is enormous. The initial 20 billion, if only issued to the frontline units for one month, might barely suffice, but the other units’ appeasement, plus the previously promised death gratuity…”
He dared not continue. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚
Little Bush instantly understood, seeing his demeanor.
The money wasn’t enough. Not even enough to fulfill the minimal promises he’d just made in front of the generals.
He didn’t question further, just waved tiredly. “Go ahead. Do what you can.”
Rove left the room almost in a rush, as if granted amnesty.
…
The news of the payments spread like wildfire through the battlefield radios and secured phone lines, reaching various frontline units.
Initially, most soldiers were dismissive—similar empty promises they had heard too many times.
But the restless emotions were indeed temporarily suppressed, a sense of “let’s wait and see” hovered in the trenches and bunkers.
Two days later, on March 1st, it seemed like a miracle might actually occur.
Many soldiers received “verbal notification” of the payments, and then they excitedly called their families.
Finally, they wouldn’t have to eat relief food!
“Mary! Listen, the money’s here, the army sent the money, quickly go to the bank and withdraw it, buy the kids something decent to eat!” a sergeant major on the outskirts of Gree City shouted excitedly over the noisy field phone.
