Mexico City, top floor of the "Feathered Serpent Temple."
Victor put down the phone.
Outside the windows, the traffic on Paseo de la Reforma was already blocked. Someone was honking, someone was cursing, someone was sticking their head out the car window, looking towards the National Palace.
They didn't know what was happening at Damascus Airport, didn't know Big Mao People's fighter jets were circling the skies over Syria, didn't know Mexico's hundred and twenty soldiers were crouching behind sandbag bunkers, aiming missiles at Big Mao People's planes.
Bramo stood behind him, holding a report that had just been delivered.
"Moscow replied. Jingpu said, Big Mao has military bases, fleets, planes, and soldiers in Syria. Big Mao won't abandon Syria. If Mexico wants to start a war with Big Mao in Damascus, Big Mao will accompany."
Victor turned around.
"Accompany?"
