Capítulo 1333: Chapter 646: Victor, Help Me, Dad!!!
Casare almost shoved Ambassador Cavendi “invited” into a cramped communications room next door.
“Waiting for your good news, Mr. Ambassador, you must understand, a minute late, and many British military prisoners will be killed by Medellin.”
Casare kindly reminded, and then thoughtfully helped to close the door.
Ambassador Cavendi almost trembled as he picked up the secure cell phone, his fingers clumsily dialing the direct line to the Prime Minister’s Mansion at 10 Downing Street in London.
After a long waiting tone, the Prime Minister’s slightly weary voice came through: “Cavendi? How is the situation in Bogota? Has Victor agreed?”
Cavendi took a deep breath, desperately trying to maintain the diplomat’s calm, but the anger, humiliation, and panic in his voice were completely uncontrollable, words bursting out like a machine gun: “Your Excellency Prime Minister! Victor… that… that bastard of a country warlord! He… he’s downright extorting! He doesn’t care about any humanitarian issues! He just wants a price!”
He said this without noticing the flashing red light overhead in the room.
Perhaps…
Furious?
He spoke rapidly, almost without pause, recounting Victor’s original words, from the blatant demand for a price to the accusation of British support for Carlos’s old forces, and finally to the frightening threat of public opinion—”to pile the steps of London’s Parliament Building with the photos and questioning banners of our soldiers!”
After recounting it all, Cavendi could no longer hold back, roaring softly into the phone as if he were unleashing all the suppressed anger from Victor’s office: “Prime Minister! Listen! Listen to this savage’s tone! He is completely humiliating the British Empire! Treating us like sheep to be slaughtered at will! We absolutely cannot bow to this naked intimidation and extortion! This is simply… bandit behavior! We must respond toughly!”
There was a brief silence on the other end, just the faint sound of electricity.
When the Prime Minister’s voice came again, it carried a deliberately suppressed calm, “Cavendi, calm down, I understand your emotions, but insults won’t solve the problem, Victor… he is indeed a pragmatist, or rather, cruelly realistic. He has found that we are now held by the soft spot.”
“What are the… conditions he proposed, specifically?” The Prime Minister’s voice sounded as if choosing his words carefully, revealing a bureaucratic caution, “He mentioned price and concession, is there a specific scope?”
“Maybe we need to discuss this topic in Parliament.”
“Specific???” Cavendi almost laughed in exasperation, raising his voice, “He didn’t mention anything specific, he just said a price we’d be satisfied with! Your Excellency Prime Minister, this is obviously waiting for us to propose a price, and it must meet his satisfaction!”
“Who knows how big this appetite is! He wants us to cut meat! How much meat depends entirely on his mood! And he wants us to respond immediately! Medellin can’t wait! Every minute delayed adds to the risks for our trapped soldiers! Those drug traffickers and guerrillas won’t wait for London to finish its lengthy Cabinet meeting!”
Cavendi waved his empty hand excitedly as if the Prime Minister were right before him: “No more discussion, Prime Minister! Victor’s patience is zero! That crude fat man Casare is watching outside the door! If we don’t present something that moves him now, he’ll truly stand by and immediately start that damn propaganda machine! Think of the consequences! Think of the fury of the trapped soldiers’ families! Think of how the opposition will tear us apart in Parliament!”
He almost shouted the last sentence: “By the time Parliament researches and evaluates, the corpses of the British Army in Medellin will be bloody rotten! I need authorization! Immediately! Right now! Authorize me to negotiate terms with him! Whatever he wants, as long it’s not ceding Gibraltar, we must first stabilize him! Save our people and talk later!”
There was another silence on the other end, this time longer.
Cavendi could imagine the Prime Minister’s furrowed brows and his pacing figure in the office.
Finally, the Prime Minister’s voice came, carrying a tone of compromise but also full of bureaucratic evasion: “I understand your urgency, but such significant concessions cannot be decided unilaterally by you or me. This involves national core interests, requires urgent consultation with the Cabinet Security Committee, and may even require some… diplomatic commitments approved by Her Majesty the Queen.”
“I will immediately convene core cabinet members, you… try your best to stall Victor and buy time. Tell him London is urgently and seriously considering his concerns, we are willing to show our greatest sincerity, but the specific plan requires some time to coordinate domestically… be sure to emphasize our sincerity and humanitarian priority principles.”
“Sincerity?! Humanitarian?!” Cavendi desperately growled into the phone, the veins on his forehead throbbing, “Prime Minister! Victor just said these words are bullshit to him! He wants real gold, silver, and visible benefits! Trying to stabilize him with these empty words? Do you think that cold-blooded butcher will buy it? He’ll just see it as delay and weakness! This is essentially gambling with our soldiers’ lives on his patience!”
“Cavendi!” The Prime Minister’s voice abruptly became stern, interrupting his loss of control, “Mind your language! Execute the orders! Do your best to delay while also probing their possible bottom line. The Cabinet will provide instructions as soon as possible. That’s it!”
“Click,” the phone was hung up.