Chapter 2046 - 844: Crush Those Restless Idiots!

Victor leaned back in his chair, eyes closed.

Casare sat in the front passenger seat and turned back, saying:

"Boss, everyone from Congress is here. I heard a few people want to make trouble, talking about 'unauthorized military action' and 'violating international law' and such."

Victor didn't open his eyes.

"Let them talk."

Casare grinned.

"Let them talk. Once they're done, we slam Sinopiquiar and Acuña's testimonies on the table and tell them that the people who killed Mexicans were funded by Americans. Let's see what they say then."

Bramo added from the side, "The testimonies can't be fully disclosed. The part about the CIA, we need to keep that for future use."

Victor opened his eyes.

"Any news from Bennett?"

Bramo nodded.

"Acuña confessed everything. His communication channels with the CIA, the account numbers, the names of contacts, he confessed it all. There's even a list—twenty-seven people in Ecuador's military and political circles who have taken CIA money."

Victor was silent for a few seconds.

"Keep the list. It'll be useful later."

The convoy stopped at the steps of Capitol Hill.

As Victor got out of the car, the entrance was already swarmed with reporters. Flashbulbs flared, and microphones were thrust in front of him, questions were thrown his way:

"Mr. Victor, what is the purpose of the operation in Ecuador?"

"Mr. Victor, have you heard the international community's condemnations?"

"Mr. Victor, what is your next step with Alarcón?"

Victor didn't answer.

He walked straight into Capitol Hill.

At 9:30 AM, Capitol Hill, full assembly room.

The special session began.

As soon as the Speaker announced the agenda, someone raised a hand.

It was the opposition leader, an elderly man in his sixties, with white hair, speaking slowly and deliberately.

"Mr. Speaker, I have a procedural question."

The Speaker nodded.

"Please go ahead."

The old man stood up, looking at Victor on the podium.

"Mr. Victor, may I ask, whose decision was it to send troops to Ecuador?"

The room quieted down.

Victor looked at him.

"My decision."

The old man gave a cold laugh.

"Your decision? The Mexican Constitution stipulates that deploying troops to another country requires congressional authorization. You bypassed Congress, unilaterally deploying troops to invade a sovereign nation—this is unconstitutional!"

There were a few voices in agreement, scattered and sparse.

Victor said nothing.

The old man continued:

"I know you wield immense power; no one dares oppose you. But the Constitution is the Constitution, procedure is procedure. If these can be bypassed, how are we different from those dictatorships?"

The room grew even quieter.

Everyone watched Victor.

Victor stood up.

He walked to the podium, looking at the old man.

"Sir, do you know what happened in Guayaquil?"

The old man was momentarily taken aback.

"I..."

"One hundred and twenty-three Mexican citizens were killed within two days. Bodies piled up in the streets, forming a small hill. Among them was a three-year-old boy named Diego Espinoza. When he was burned to death, he was in his mother's arms."

Victor's voice was calm, but every word was like a stone.

"Do you know what happened in the San Blas District?"

The old man said nothing.

"Thirty-seven Mexican citizens were killed. Forty-two were injured. Nineteen are missing. Those missing are still unaccounted for, likely buried in unmarked graves."

He paused.

"Sir, when those people were killed, Ecuador's Congress hadn't authorized it, Ecuador's Constitution hadn't authorized it, and the United Nations hadn't authorized it. They were just killed."

The room was silent.

"You talk to me about the Constitution, about procedure," Victor's voice rose slightly, "Alright, then I ask you: Did the Constitution and procedure protect those thirty-seven people who were killed?"

The old man opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"No," Victor answered for him, "They were killed, the perpetrators walk free, and Ecuador's government says 'it needs time to investigate.'"

He surveyed the room.

"So, I sent the troops. Not to make Ecuadorians submit, but to make those who killed our people pay. Not to flaunt military might, but to tell all of Latin America—from today on, anyone who dares touch Mexicans, I'll go after them."

He turned and looked at the old man.

"Sir, you believe I've violated the Constitution. Then impeach me. I'll be waiting."

He returned to his seat and sat down.

The room remained silent for a full ten seconds.

Then, someone started clapping.

First scattered, then more and more, until it became a wave.

The old man stood there, face red, lips moving, but ultimately said nothing and sat down.

The Speaker banged the gavel.

"The meeting continues."

February 11, 1998, 3:00 PM, Quito, Presidential Palace.

Alarcón had been sitting in his office for a full day and night.

No one came to see him, no one came to interrogate him, only the guards at the door were replaced every two hours.

He did not know what awaited him.

Trial? Execution? Or imprisoned for life?

He stood up and walked to the window.

Outside, the streets of Quito were being restored to order. Mexican soldiers patrolled, occasionally a few civilian cars passed by, pedestrians were slightly more than yesterday. In the distance, the spire of Quito Cathedral glimmered in the sunlight.

The door opened.

It was Garcia who came in.

"Mr. President, someone wants to see you."

Alarcón turned around.

"Who?"

Garcia didn't answer, just stepped aside.

The person who came in, Alarcón recognized.

It was Sinopiquiar.