Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 1799 - 794: Bandits Are Bandits! (Part 2)

Capítulo 1799: Chapter 794: Bandits Are Bandits! (Part 2)

The scene is BBC’s “Newsnight” special, with the host sitting opposite three guests: a former Royal Prosecutor, a Human Rights Organization leader, and the most troublesome Labour Shadow Cabinet Foreign Minister, Robin Cook.

“The Prime Minister’s Mansion’s statement lacks the basic persuasiveness.”

Cook faced the camera, his tone calm yet sharp, “‘We will establish an independent investigation committee’ appointed by whom? Reporting to whom? Does the investigative scope include all activities of the intelligence department in North America? These questions remain unanswered.”

The Human Rights Organization leader picked up the thread: “The international community does not expect the United Kingdom to investigate itself. The United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights Office has expressed willingness to assist; why does the government refuse?”

The former prosecutor adjusted his glasses: “From a legal perspective, if potential war crimes are involved, they should be tried by the International Court or at least a special court involving multiple countries. The results of a unilateral investigation are unlikely to gain international recognition.”

The host interjected timely: “But the government insists this is Britain’s internal affairs…”

“Then was Princess Diana’s death also an internal affair?”

Cook retorted, “Why were those photos leaked? Why are there so many doubts about the scene of death? Why did an ‘accident’ happen precisely when she possibly held sensitive information? These questions remain unresolved, and public skepticism will persist.”

The scene cut to street interviews.

A young woman, speaking into the microphone, her voice agitated: “Do they think we’re fools? Investigating themselves? Over three hundred people died in Stone Bridge Town! Princess Diana also died! We need the truth, not another White Paper!”

A middle-aged man shook his head: “It’s so embarrassing. The whole world is laughing at us. Over in the EU, they’re surely saying, ‘See, that’s the British for you.'”

Even an old lady, carrying shopping bags, sighed into the camera: “Let the Mexicans come investigate, anyway no one believes a word we say now.”

The Prime Minister turned off the TV.

He rubbed his temples, the migraine flaring up again.

The office door was knocked on, and Sir Robin Butler, the Cabinet Secretary, entered, holding newly received diplomatic telegrams.

“Prime Minister, the French Foreign Ministry has issued a formal notice,” Butler’s voice was low, “recommending an EU special meeting to ‘discuss the consistency of member states’ human rights standards in diplomatic actions.’ Although not explicitly stated, it’s clearly aimed at us.”

The Prime Minister smiled wryly: “Hasn’t Alain Juppe had enough showtime in Brussels?”

“What’s more troublesome is this.” Butler handed over another document, “The Dutch Foreign Minister said in an interview, ‘if the UK fails to properly handle the current crisis, reconsidering certain privileged status within the EU cannot be ruled out.'”

“They’re kicking us while we’re down,” the Prime Minister said.

“Prime Minister, our European allies have run out of patience. The Diana incident is merely the catalyst, the real issue is that many believe the UK is still dealing with 21st-century problems using 19th-century methods. The North America ‘trusteeship,’ secretive actions, refusal of international supervision… these practices have been outdated since the end of the Cold War.”

The Prime Minister stood up and walked to the window.

He took a cigarette and put it in his mouth.

“Has the Queen’s speech for tomorrow afternoon been revised?” he asked.

“It’s the third draft.” Butler pulled a few sheets of paper from a folder, “The wording is tougher than before, emphasizing royal dignity and national unity, condemning external forces for using the tragedy for political manipulation, calling on the public to trust the government’s investigation.”

“The public won’t buy it.”

The Prime Minister shook his head, “Those people love watching a spectacle, they like to make things big, whether they’re our enemies or ours.”

He turned around: “Get in touch with Mexico.”

Butler was momentarily stunned: “You mean…”

“I’m going to speak to Prime Minister Casare personally,” the Prime Minister said, “Some things need to be clarified through informal channels.”

Mexico City, 2 a.m.

Casare was woken up by an emergency call, having just lain down less than three hours ago. He had been busy coordinating the infrastructure approvals and talent allocation for “Silicon Valley Mexico,” receiving no more than four hours of sleep each day.

“Prime Minister, the encrypted line from London, the Prime Minister personally.”

Casare instantly became alert.

He put on his robe, walked to the study, and activated the secure communication device. The red indicator light flickered a few times, then stabilized to green.

“Prime Minister Casare.”

The Prime Minister’s voice came from the receiver, slightly distorted from encryption, but the weariness was unmistakable, “Sorry to disturb you at this hour.”

“Likewise, Prime Minister.” Casare sat down, lighting a cigarette, “It should be 8 a.m. in London now? You’re up early.”

A brief silence. Casare could imagine the Prime Minister on the other side rubbing his temples.

“Let’s get straight to the point.” The Prime Minister abandoned pleasantries, “Mr. Victor’s speech is powerful. But it also makes the situation extremely dangerous. Accusations of war crimes, demands for an international court—is this a complete break?”

Casare exhaled smoke: “Prime Minister, the face was first torn by you. When you sent assassins to kill our scientist’s family, didn’t you think of ripping the face? When massacring civilians in Stone Bridge Town, didn’t you think of it?”

“Those accusations need evidence—”

“We have evidence,” Casare interrupted him, “and have already shown it to the world. Now the question is, what do you intend to do? Continue denial? Continue investigating yourselves?”

The Prime Minister took a deep breath: “The United Kingdom is willing to concede. We can issue a public apology, compensate the families of victims in Stone Bridge Town, replace the head of the ‘Trustee Committee,’ and even allow international observers into the North American control zone. But Princess Diana’s death must be an accident, it must be the end point. Mr. Victor must stop using this incident for political propaganda.”