My American magical life
Chapter 1130: 145: I’m here for XX, what are you trying to do? _3

Chapter 1130: Chapter 145: I’m here for XX, what are you trying to do? _3

The difference between the conservative right and the radical right is a matter of policy direction!

“If you are willing to initiate an investigation into Geweil, then you don’t have to worry about the situation over at Epstein’s side.”

Hutter said lightly.

Though it was a case of the fox exploiting the tiger’s might, it felt really good.

At that moment, he had the illusion of being the king of the world.

“That bitch’s matter is not related to me at all! It’s all FAKENEWS talking nonsense!”

The blond old boy was truly innocent, everyone knew he liked blondes, big waves, and fair skin!

“You don’t need to explain to me, sir.”

Hutter, having finished acting tough, was actually a bit anxious now.

Great Commander, can you be braver this time?

After all, your grandfather was a gangster on the West Coast, a pioneering elite of the genuine Stars and Stripes America.

Pull yourself together, don’t lose face!

The Great Commander took a deep breath and said.

“I need to consider carefully, you go back first.”

To consider carefully roughly equaled chickening out.

Originally, the Great Commander intended to push forward—at least pretend to take things seriously.

But people like Achilles and Chief Cheng had such high combat power, they were all about fighting — relentless fighting, ever-pressing fighting.

Pushing the California Clique was one thing, but now even the Great Commander was being pushed.

Even dragging in the Epstein case.

As a super cesspit, this thing blows up, and the legitimacy of America’s state might tremble!

They were so bold, the Great Commander instead started to hesitate.

“As you wish!”

Hutter exited the room, but, as he left, he used the Oval Office’s door to teach the Great Commander a lesson.

“Bang!”

The already uneasy Great Commander was directly startled by Hutter’s door slamming, and his heart trembled.

He grimaced, wanting to curse, but the anti-eavesdropping briefcase just placed on the table had already been taken away by Hutter.

Looking around nervously, the Great Commander chose to shut his mouth.

He was certain that he was monitored one million percent of the time.

His opponents were countless.

The Zipper King couple who rose post-Cold War, long-term partners of the legal system.

Black Satan, birthed straight from the Special Intelligence System, the former Great Commander who held Washington D.C. for eight years.

The old she-devil standing unshaken on Capitol Hill for thirty years, serving twice as the Emperor’s Speaker, and the California Clique behind her.

These were just the external ones.

The internal enemy had just left.

Watching the door open, the Great Commander shook his head.

Damn it, here comes another one!

“Mike, you’d better have brought me good news, I’m not in a good mood right now.”

The Great Commander said to his Secretary of State.

Mike Pompeo, Koch family councilman, another Establishment Faction bastard.

Back during the election, this dog’s master didn’t even plan to give me a penny, and later shamelessly begged me to give their man a Secretary of State position!

“I just saw the deputy director of the bureau, our deputy director, did he upset you?”

Mike Pompeo gestured for his assistant to hand him the file, then sat smilingly opposite the Great Commander.

“No, he’s just a runner.”

The Great Commander didn’t notice the slight change in Mike Pompeo’s expression because of the word ‘runner’.

In fact, he was also a runner.

It stung.

Hayek’s reach was so great, in the tripartite America, there was no place for a Secretary of State, Mike Pompeo was actually just another pitiful worker too.

“Look at this document, it’s our preliminary budget assessment, drafted jointly by the Counterterrorism Coordination Office and the Intelligence Research Bureau under the National Affairs Council.

Based on the risk ratings and safety improvement costs of different regions, to fully prevent another terrorist attack like in Nigeria, we need at least a 2.7 billion dollar special budget.”

The Great Commander looked at Mike Pompeo’s proposed budget plan, feeling uncontrollably irritable inside.

2.7 billion dollars, and that’s just for the first year!

Damn it all because of Geweil!

Bastard!

Killing one member of the Democratic Party might leave an innocent one.

But skipping one and killing the next will surely have a bunch of fish slipping through the net!

Bureaucrat reports always look like that, long, stinky, and puzzling clearly, the Great Commander, after flipping through twice, just gave up.

Heavens, it’s so disgusting.

If possible, he was willing to kiss every face and backside of America’s bureaucrats with his boots.

“Where is all this being spent? This figure is too much…”

The Secretary of State sighed.

“Different regions have different risks, for example, areas where extremists are active, the budget needed is particularly high.

On the other hand, cost differences must be considered too, like in Northern Europe, although the risk level is lower, due to high costs, the total expenditure will also be quite significant.”

“Money, money, money, everyone wants a higher budget, more resources, greater support, Mike, can’t you figure it out for yourselves?”

“Uh, Great Commander, our diplomats undertake responsibilities to serve the country at great risk, if we can’t even ensure their safety, it would be too…”

“Can the budget be cut a bit more?”

“If the plan is squeezed a bit more, I think there might be a few tens of millions of space, but Great Commander, having a bit more room for safety is also necessary.”

“Seven billion, is that okay?”

Silence, silence was Mike Pompeo today.

He looked at the Great Commander like he was crazy.

No, dude.

Is this how you’re cutting down figures?

Really scraping it down to just the change?

Do you consider being the Great Commander the same as doing business?

You think this is a meeting and negotiation on company cost control?