This... this isn't good.
"Of course, there's something I need to trouble you with..."
"What... what is it?"
Victor glanced at Cuauhtémoc, who was sitting beside him. The nominal President of the First Republic smiled; his injuries made his voice hoarse, beyond repair, "We need a batch of loans for building up Mexico."
Malcolm Lewis sighed in relief, thinking it was nothing serious, "No problem..."
"But we don't want to pay it back."
What?!
You're freeloading!
No, are you robbing us?
His face fell, "This is not according to the procedure, I... I'll be sued, and my limit is only 2.6 million British Pounds. Anything above that price needs headquarters' approval."
