Hoover, like Roque, did not want to see relations between the United States and southern Africa at a stalemate.

In the past few years, the United States has been a little irritable from top to bottom, mainly because the United States did not get what it wanted in the world war, and after the end of the world war, it fell into a long-term economic crisis and a long-term downturn.

Hoover's invitation to Philip to visit the United States was also aimed at de-escalating the increasingly obvious conflict and confrontation between southern Africa and the United States and establishing an effective communication mechanism.

Since war between the United States and Southern Africa is unlikely, why not try another way to get along.

While both governments are working to improve relations, Luke Silva is still campaigning for quasi-southern Africans in makeshift camps.

Considering Leonard Wood's intransigence that the situation in the temporary camps would not improve anytime soon, the Southern African Embassy in the Philippines found a hotel in Manila in the hope of moving the would-be migrants to a hotel.

That's right, it's the Rhodesia Hotel in Manila.

"No way!" Leonard Wood once again rejected Luke Silva's suggestion.

The federal government of Southern Africa is indeed very wealthy, and the Rhodesia Hotel is not cheap, and the cost of placing hundreds of people in the Rhodesia Hotel may reach tens of thousands of dollars a day.

"The cost of the migrants staying in the Rhodesia hotel is fully borne by the federal government of Southern Africa, and until you investigate the facts, I promise that they will not leave Manila, and your investigators can enter the Rhodesia hotel at any time to investigate, and it has been raining lately, the conditions in the temporary camps are bad, and diseases are rampant, and most of those southern Africans are women and children, and they need to be better cared for, not struggling with the threat of disease." Luke Silva has to bow his head when it's time to bow his head, and he is tough, and the newcomers in the makeshift camps are the most affected.

"We're working on improving the facilities at the makeshift camp, but as you know, Luke, it will take time." Leonard Wood is still not in the oil and salt, and with the efficiency of the US military stationed in the Philippines, it may take a year or two to really improve the facilities in the temporary camp.

What's more, Leonard Wood didn't really want to improve the facilities of the makeshift camp, but it was just a pretext.

"Your Excellency the Governor, if you insist, can we, the Federal Government of Southern Africa, be responsible for the improvement of the temporary camps?" Luke Silva is well prepared, and there is a backup plan if Plan A doesn't work.

"No, the Philippine government will bear the cost of the temporary camps-" Leonard Wood made a good calculation, it was the southern Africans who suffered in the temporary camps, but it was the Philippines who took the blame, and there was nothing to do with the US troops stationed in the Philippines.

In the face of the tough Leonard Wood, Luke Silva is also helpless.

This guy is a stone in a pit, smelly and hard, bent on provoking confrontation between southern Africa and the United States, with ill intentions.

It is also understandable that soldiers in peacetime have no status, and only when war breaks out will the status of soldiers be effectively improved.

Some people don't care about the damage that war does to their country, and they only think about their own interests.

Unfortunately, Leonard Wood seems to be such a person.

While Luke Silva was running up and down, changes were actually taking place in the makeshift camp.

After the southern African staff were allowed to enter the temporary camps, the lack of supplies and medicines in the camps was finally improved.

The southern African workers brought not only medicines, but also a variety of abundant food, and the lives of the migrants were greatly improved.

"The car was loaded with milk and eggs, some clothes and bedding, all of them, and there was no contraband—" Bruce sat in the passenger seat of the truck, negotiating with the Filipino guards at the gate of the makeshift camp.

"Unload everything for inspection, trucks can't enter the makeshift camp—" The guards were arrogant, and their bayonet rifles swayed in front of Bruce.

A guard walked around to the back of the car and tried to climb into the car to check.

"Take your hand away, don't touch my things!" Bruce jumped out of the car and yelled, these guards were very excessive, and they wanted to open a dye shop if they gave them three points of color, and eating and taking cards were routine operations.

But Bruce is white British, and certainly won't get used to these Filipinos.

"What to shout, don't make a loud noise—" Bill Robinson, who was still in charge of the makeshift camp, was now in a violent mood, and corporal punishment of soldiers was commonplace.

"Mr. Captain, please restrain your soldiers, look at their little dirty hands, can they still eat what they touch?" Bruce is equally irritable, having worked as a mercenary at Umbrella Inc. and now works in Brad's office.

In the Philippines, of course, Bruce has another identity, where he is now a senior director of a Southern African philanthropic foundation.

"Undergoing an inspection is a necessary procedure, and no one is allowed to violate the law." Bill Robinson is aloof and doesn't intend to make it easy for Bruce.

"Is there anything to check, am I going to send explosives to makeshift camps?" Bruce is simple and rude, and the mercenary is not a diplomat, not so suave.

"This is my territory, and my rules must be followed!" Bill Robinson is also horizontal enough, he is indeed quite capable of bluffing people in this captain's uniform.

"Hehe, Captain Robinson, I want to remind you that if my interests are lost because of you, then I won't trouble these monkeys, I will go directly to you!" Bruce did not back down, the friction between southern Africa and the United States, Bruce was powerless to resolve, but to deal with a certain captain, Bruce could still do it.

To put it bluntly, it's a threat, Leonard Wood does things, and Bruce can't help Leonard Wood.

But if Bill Robinson fights for the tiger, then it is very simple for Bruce to take revenge on Bill Robinson.

Bill Robinson obviously understood this truth, but what Bruce said was too ugly, and the threat in his words was too obvious, Bill Robinson's face instantly turned red, and his forehead was bruised, and he looked like he was about to have a seizure.

Bruce was indifferent, looking at Bill Robinson with a cold gaze.

Don't think that with a bunch of southern African immigrants, you can do whatever you want.

Impossible!

"Trucks are not allowed in makeshift camps—" Bill Robinson finally relented, dropped a word and turned to leave.

Bruce's words, while unpleasant, did make Bill Robinson feel threatened.

"Get out of the car, unload, let's carry it in—" Bruce didn't smirk either, beckoning to the driver and the stevedores on the truck.

In fact, there were only a dozen wooden boxes and barrels, and they were all moved into the temporary camp after two or three trips.

Most of the ground in the camp has been paved with stones and then wooden planks, and toilets have been built in the corners of the camp, and the sanitation has been greatly improved.

"Milk and eggs again, what about beef? What about fruits? Even if you don't have a fortune, you should also prepare some chocolate, we have a lot of women and children here, and they need to replenish their nutrition. "Mike Bedditch was unhappy with Bruce's work and picked and chose to the point of nitpicking.

"Come on, doctor, these things are already hard to come by, the chocolate you want will be shipped from southern Africa, and it will probably be delivered in a week." Bruce directed a few workers to set up makeshift stoves to heat milk, and since the southern African staff entered the makeshift camp, the women and children in the makeshift camp no longer eat tortillas and vegetable soup, which with eggs can barely run out of a dollar a day.

While Bruce and Mike Bedditch were distributing food to the migrants, a dozen Filipino soldiers gathered at the gate of the makeshift camp in envy.

Such a standard of food is not available to these soldiers.

Bruce took the initiative to walk over with a pack of cigarettes: "Smoke one-"

"Thank you, sir—" The soldiers who received the cigarettes were flattered, and the cigarettes produced in southern Africa were high-end with filters, which the Filipino soldiers could not afford.

Bruce smiled and threw the entire pack of cigarettes over, and the soldier who received the cigarette gave one to each of the others, and put the rest directly into his pocket.

Attracted the unkind gaze of several soldiers.

"Gentlemen, be kind to these women and children, the Federal Government of Southern Africa will definitely reciprocate, if they are harmed, then the Federal Government of Southern Africa will not ignore it, what the people above do, it has nothing to do with us, we should not be held responsible." Bruce has a good way of dealing with these soldiers.

The soldiers are submissive, they are not stupid, and they certainly do not want to be caught between two great powers as cannon fodder.

Giving the soldiers some rope heads, Bruce went straight to Bill Robinson.

Bill Robinson sat behind his desk and looked at Bruce with a very complicated gaze.

"I'm sorry Captain, I apologize for my irrational words just now, I didn't target anyone, I just felt it." Bruce grinned and sat down directly in the chair across from Bill Robinson.

Bill Robinson didn't say a word, quietly watching Bruce's performance.

Bruce didn't talk nonsense, and when he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, he seemed to inadvertently bring out a check from the RAND Bank.

"Smoke one?" Bruce doesn't squint.

Bill Robinson doesn't answer, doesn't speak, like a wood carving.

Bruce smiled, pulled out a stick, nodded to Bill Robinson and got up to leave.

On the dark red tabletop, the white check is extremely glaring.

Bill Robinson's eyes were full of anger when he looked at the check, his chest was heaving violently, his breathing was noticeably heavier, and for a moment, Bill Robinson even grasped the handle of the gun.

At this time, Bill Robinson finally saw the number on the check, five hundred dollars.