Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 1788 - 791: Victor’s Ashtray Has Arrived!!
Halfway through eating, Victor suddenly raised his head, his gaze sweeping across the entire dining hall.
His eyes paused briefly on a few people, finally fixing on a middle-aged man sitting by the window.
The man wore a plain gray jacket and was focused on eating a bowl of bean soup, occasionally whispering with a young colleague beside him, looking as normal as could be.
"That person," Victor pointed with his fork, "who is he?"
Bennett looked in the direction: "Oh, that's Miguel Sanchez, an old employee from our bureau, the deputy director of the archives. He's been with us since the Tijuana days, responsible for internal intelligence sorting and archiving, always diligent in his work."
"Tijuana days?" Victor repeated.
Bennett nodded, "He's introverted, not very talkative, but meticulous in his work, never made a mistake all these years."
Victor stared at Miguel for a few seconds, then put down his fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin: "Have him come to my office after he finishes his meal. I'll be waiting for him in your office."
Bennett, though puzzled, nodded immediately: "Yes, I'll go notify him right away."
Casare felt a stir in his heart.
These past three days, Victor had met hundreds of people, but this was the first time he'd taken the initiative to single out someone for a private meeting.
Could it be...
Victor stood up, turning to Casare: "Let's go wait in Bennett's office."
The two left the dining hall, went upstairs to Bennett's office. It was a typical bureaucratic office, file cabinets, a desk, a sofa and a coffee table, with a map of Mexico and several certificates of honor on the wall.
Victor didn't sit but stood by the window, watching the street below. Casare closed the door, asking softly, "Boss, do you suspect that Miguel?"
"I don't know." Victor's voice was somewhat tired, "I just want to talk with him."
Five minutes later, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in."
The door opened, and Miguel Sanchez walked in. He was still wearing the same gray jacket, holding an old notebook, his expression respectful yet natural.
"Leader, you called for me." His voice was calm, with that unique tone of a long-time employee, respectful but not sycophantic.
Victor turned around, smiling: "Sanchez, have a seat. Bennett said you've been with us since Tijuana, we're like old brothers."
Miguel sat on the sofa, his back straight: "Yes, Leader. Back then, I was a clerk at the Tijuana police department, the day you and your team took over city hall, I was in the archives room. Later, when you talked about establishing a new order, I followed you."
"You've worked hard all these years." Victor sat down across from him, while Casare stood by his side, "Working in archives, must be pretty dull, right?"
"Not dull at all, Leader." Miguel shook his head, "Archives are records of history, the foundation of intelligence. Every document has its value."
Victor nodded, seemingly casually asking, "How's your family? I heard your wife's not in good health?"
Miguel's eyes flickered for a moment: "Thank you, Leader, for your concern. She... has an old problem, rheumatism, needs regular injections and medication."
"And your children?"
"My son is studying engineering at the National University, my daughter is still in high school." Miguel mentioned this, a genuine smile appeared on his face, "The kids are doing well."
"That's good, having successful children is the greatest blessing." Victor paused, then suddenly changed the subject, "Is the medication your wife takes imported? It must be quite expensive monthly, right?"
The office went silent for a moment.
Miguel's expression didn't change at all: "Yes, it's a German-made biological agent, costs over three thousand new currency a month. But my salary can cover it."
"That's good." Victor leaned forward, hands clasped on his knees, eyes fixed on Miguel, "Sanchez, I have a question for you."
"Please go ahead, Leader."
"Why did you betray us?"
The question was asked calmly, but it was like a bomb going off in the office.
Casare's muscles instantly tightened.
Bennett stood at the door, stunned.
Miguel Sanchez's expression froze.
He blinked, as if he hadn't heard clearly: "Leader, what... what did you say?"
"I asked you," Victor repeated each word, "why did you betray? Was it for money? For your family? Or did the British offer you some promise?"
Miguel's complexion began to change. From initial confusion, to shock, then to forced calm. He stood up, his voice raised: "Leader, I don't understand what you're saying! I've been with you for four years, from Tijuana to Mexico City, how could I betray?"
Victor also stood up, he was half a head taller than Miguel, now looking down at him, "Three months ago, during the time the confidential room was replacing the shredding machine, you processed records through the old shredder, restored seventeen draft documents that were supposed to be destroyed, including three related to the initial shortlist for the talent recruitment plan."
Miguel's pupils suddenly contracted.
"Two months ago, your wife opened an anonymous account at the Swiss Bank, the first deposit was fifty thousand US Dollars. The remitter was a shell company in Panama, but tracing the funds source eventually pointed to a private equity firm in London."
Victor stepped forward, Miguel instinctively stepped back, his calf hitting the coffee table.
"A month ago, your son was granted a 'special scholarship' at Cambridge University, a full scholarship, including tuition, living expenses, even two annual round-trip first-class tickets. And his grades, he only ranks average at the National University."
Victor stepped forward again, voice lowered further: "Ten days ago, the night Dr. Castro received the appointment letter, you were on the night shift. At 2 AM, you used the archives' old telegraph machine—that machine should have been scrapped three years ago, but you kept it under the guise of 'historical commemoration'—to send an encrypted message. Do you need me to read out the content of that message?"
