Building a Conglomerate in Another World-Chapter 223: Race Against Time

President Matthew Hesh sat in the Oval Office, his fingers drumming lightly on the polished mahogany desk. The air was thick with tension as he waited for the arrival of Mexican Ambassador Eduardo Velásquez. Outside, the distant hum of the city mixed with the chants of angry protestors demanding war. The pressure was mounting, but Matthew refused to act on emotion.

He needed the truth.

The clock struck noon when Collins entered the room. "Mr. President, the Mexican Ambassador has arrived."

Matthew stood, adjusting his suit. "Bring him in."

Collins nodded and stepped aside, allowing Eduardo Velásquez to enter. The ambassador was a tall, distinguished man in his late fifties, his graying hair slicked back, his posture composed yet weary. His sharp, intelligent eyes studied the room before finally settling on the President.

"Señor Presidente," Velásquez greeted formally, his voice calm but measured. "I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me despite the current… tensions."

Matthew gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat, Ambassador."

Velásquez obliged, setting his hat on his lap. "I must say, I was surprised by your invitation, considering your Congress is already discussing a declaration of war."

Matthew’s jaw tightened. "I want to get to the bottom of this before anyone makes a decision we can’t take back." He leaned forward. "Fort McKinley. Over forty Amerathian soldiers dead. All evidence points to Mexican involvement."

Velásquez’s expression remained neutral. "Evidence, you say?"

Matthew nodded. "Mexican weapons were found at the scene. Military documents, insignias, all pointing to your government."

Velásquez exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Señor Presidente, let me be perfectly clear: Mexico had no involvement in this attack."

Matthew studied him carefully. "Then explain the evidence."

The ambassador sat up straighter. "I cannot explain something my country did not do. But I can tell you with absolute certainty that there were no Mexican soldiers operating near your border. Our military forces are stationed miles away from the Amerathian border. We lack the strength to provoke a war with your nation, and we certainly wouldn’t be foolish enough to start one."

Matthew didn’t break eye contact. "Then how do you explain the presence of your weapons?"

Velásquez’s lips pressed into a thin line. "How do I know they are truly ours? Anyone can plant weapons, fabricate documents. Do you have any living witnesses who can confirm that they saw actual Mexican soldiers attacking the fort?"

Matthew’s silence was enough of an answer.

Velásquez nodded knowingly. "Exactly. You don’t." He leaned forward. "Mr. President, this incident—this trap—has been carefully designed to force your hand. Someone in your government wants this war, and they are willing to manipulate your people, your Congress, even you, to get it."

Matthew exhaled sharply. "I was thinking the same thing."

Velásquez’s eyes darkened. "Then you must understand the danger of acting too quickly. If you attack Mexico, you will not just be fighting us. Other nations will take notice. Our allies in South America will not stand idly by. Neither will Spain, despite their loss to you. Even Britain and France may intervene if they suspect Amerathia is growing too bold."

Matthew rubbed his temples. "Damn it."

This wasn’t just about Mexico anymore. This was about the future of Amerathia. If he declared war based on shaky evidence, he would be leading the nation down a path of no return—one of endless conquest, of expansion through deception.

And men like Bradford would be there every step of the way, whispering in Congress’s ear, pushing for more.

Matthew straightened his back. "Ambassador Velásquez, I believe you. But belief isn’t enough. I need proof that Mexico wasn’t involved. Something concrete to take back to my government."

Velásquez nodded solemnly. "I understand. And I will do my best to provide it. I will send word to Mexico City immediately and request an official statement from our President." He paused before adding, "But will your Congress wait for that, Mr. President?"

Matthew sighed. "I’ll make them wait."

The moment Velásquez entered the White House, William Bradford knew. He sat behind his desk, fingers tapping rhythmically against the wood, his sharp eyes studying the latest headlines.

"Amerathian Blood Spilled—Mexico Must Pay!"

"President Hesh Stalls While Mexico Laughs at Us!"

"Weak Leadership in a Time of Crisis!"

Bradford smirked. The newspapers had done their job well. The people were furious, demanding action.

And yet, Hesh was hesitating.

"Of course he is," Bradford muttered to himself. "The fool still thinks this is about justice."

He exhaled sharply and leaned back in his chair. It was time to accelerate the plan. Hesh could stall all he wanted, but soon, he’d have no choice but to act.

Bradford stood, grabbing his coat. "Time to pay Congress a visit."

Back in the White House – Oval Office.

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Collins entered just as Velásquez stood to leave. "Mr. President, urgent message from Congress."

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Collins hesitated. "They’ve scheduled a vote for a declaration of war against Mexico."

Matthew felt the blood drain from his face. "Already?"

Collins nodded grimly. "Bradford’s allies are moving fast. They’re rallying senators as we speak. If you don’t act soon, they’ll force your hand."

Matthew turned to Velásquez, his expression unreadable. "Get me proof, Ambassador. And do it quickly."

Velásquez gave a curt nod. "I will, Mr. President. For both our nations."

As the ambassador left, Matthew clenched his fists.

Bradford had pushed the pieces into place.

Now, it was a race against time. Either Matthew stopped the war, or Amerathia would march forward into an era of conquest—and there would be no turning back.

Collins shifted uncomfortably, his voice low. "Sir, we may not have much time. Bradford is already meeting with key senators. If they push the vote through, it won’t matter what we do."

Matthew rubbed his temples, frustration boiling beneath the surface. "Damn it, Collins. I need more than just a gut feeling to stop this. If I veto the declaration, I need proof to back it up."

Collins hesitated before replying. "Sir… if Bradford has gone this far, do you think he’s going to let us find proof?"

Matthew’s jaw tightened. "Then we find it before he buries it." He turned back to Collins. "Get Alden and Sinclair in here. We’re not done fighting this war—not yet."