Working as a police officer in Mexico

Victor is a moral freak.

He would feel very uncomfortable if the person who offended him did not die "cleanly".

But no matter how nervous he was, he acted calmly. To be a big brother, you have to act like a big brother. However, this can send a bomb to the prison. It seems that he is very determined to kill himself.

Warden Webster also came, followed by Conor Velazquez, frowning at the smoking building while the two talked.

"What do you think they're saying?"

Casare glanced at him and said, "Maybe he was thinking about how to embezzle some money from the maintenance fee."

"I guess they were wondering why they didn't blow up this bastard like me."

Casare was stunned for a moment before hearing Victor continue, "Here he comes."

When the former heard this, he looked towards his two bosses and saw them coming over in a hurry. When Conor Velazquez saw Victor, his face looked like he was constipated.

Webster's eyes seemed to flash for a moment, and then he was very concerned, "Victor, how are you? Are you injured?"

"No, I was just scared." Victor forced a smile and pointed at the blown-up office, "If something hadn't happened to me suddenly, I would have gone to see my father by now."

Webster's eyelids twitched, "Don't worry, I will definitely investigate this matter and give you an explanation. Do you want to rest for a few days? I'll give you two days off."

Have a holiday?

Do you really want me to die?

Victor was very resistant, "Sir, I still have a job, and I can still work. I can't hide out of fear. This is revenge against me, and I will never give in. God is blessing me and Mexico." !”

His voice became louder and louder, and almost everyone heard, "Mexican police will not be intimidated by fear! Justice will prevail!"

Casare was almost digging out portraits with his toes.

What's the difference between saying that in public in Mexico and shitting in public?

But Victor is worthy of being a "Hollywood" level extra. His face is solemn, as if he is really a martyr who is going to the execution ground.

The words are very beautiful. It would be a pity not to run for election.

Webster squinted his eyes and felt furious. He finally understood that this seemingly honest and honest Victor was not a good person either.

Haggis's death was originally full of doubts.

But this bastard who died a long time ago seems to be growing more and more like a weed. How can Webster feel comfortable?

However, after all, he has spent a lot of time in the big dye vat of official career, and his ability to talk to people and ghosts has long been perfected. He patted Victor on the shoulder, praised him a few words, and expressed it in public. , will give this matter a follow-up result.

Casare's scalp felt itchy as he watched.

He can't learn these open-eyed lies.

As the saying goes, second-rate actors are in acting, while first-rate actors are in politics. Especially in places like Mexico, you can't tell which politician has been bribed by drug lords, because they all behave exactly the same on TV.

They look upright, but in fact they are all hypocrites.

But there is no other way. If you want to live longer, you have to learn to lie.

Webster left, but visibly unhappy.

"Check who else is in his family." Victor looked at his boss's back and said to Casare.

"what are you up to?"

"Are you crazy? That's a government official."

"Looking at how pitiful he is, I have to offer condolences to his family."

Condolences?

Casare always feels like you want to kill his whole family.

"Don't worry, I'm not so crazy that I've lost my mind." Victor stretched out his hand and motioned for him to pull him up. "I just suddenly want to see how he feels in despair?"

Casare's whole body tensed up.

Damn it, I knew there were no normal people in Mexico!

…

Boom!

Thunder and lightning flashed in the sky over Mexico City.

The heavy rain poured down instantly, and pedestrians on the roadside fled like wild dogs.

Magdalena Misuca District.

Ramon López Berard University entrance.

A gray Toyota was parked on the side of the road. The wipers were a little old and made a squeaking sound, and the glass was still a little greasy.

There were two smokers sitting inside, smoking one cigarette after another, and the whole car was filled with smoke.

Best was flipping through "Playboy". This hard currency was circulated from the United States. It looked like it had a lot of unknown white spots on it, and it was obviously weathered.

This is hard currency.

The favorite of Mexico's low-level gangsters, and one of the reasons why they yearn for the United States.

It is said that the woman over there has a big vagina.

Like a cow.

The bell rang for the end of get out of class. Best, who was lying in the driver's seat, threw away the magazine, checked his watch, held a cigarette in his mouth, straightened his seat, and looked outside with wide eyes, but the glass was a bit blurry.

"Damn, class is finally over. Are students so stressed during class time now? It's so tiring to study, you might as well come out and join a gang."

"Studying has a future." People around me said.

"Do you want to be an honest person like us? Or do you still work when you come out?"

Best's academic performance has always been very poor, and the other party even hates reading. He is a typical futile person and doesn't bother to argue with him.

"Is that that one? Duke." Suddenly he found a figure that looked very similar. He pointed at a student who was about 1.7 years old. His hair was dyed red and green. He took out the photo to compare.

Best was a veteran. He made preparations after receiving a call from Casare. He bribed a teacher in the school and spent 100 pesos to ask for a photo. Otherwise, the ghost knew who the target was?

"It looks like it. I'll drive up and shout."

Best quickly put down the handbrake and slowly moved over, preparing to get closer, but the target was very clever. He turned around and glanced, feeling something was wrong, so he ran away.

"Duke, catch up!"

This man couldn't run as fast as a car. He stepped on the accelerator and leaned next to him. Duke stretched his body out of the window, grabbed the other person's collar, and pulled him over forcefully.

He covered the other person's mouth and pulled him hard into the car. His behavior was extremely rough. The other person resisted fiercely and even reached out to grab the steering wheel.

The angry Beste punched the opponent with a backhand, stunning him to death.

"Duke, hold him down!" He waved his hand dissatisfied, "Call Casare and tell him the target is captured..."

Duke took out a Motorola DynaTAC 8000X from the back seat, which was the mobile phone used by his father's generation. He pressed the number and after two rings, someone answered, "Hello!"

"It's done."

"Okay, take it to the abandoned warehouse ten kilometers northwest of the prison. Best knows the place." After that, the other end hung up.

Duke turned to look at Best. The soundproofing effect of this phone was not very good, and the latter could hear clearly.

"How do you choose that place?"

"What's wrong?"

"It's okay. More than 40 Asians who wanted to smuggle to the United States died there before. Buddha bless them!"

Mexicans also pay attention to taboos.

"You don't believe in God anymore?"

"My God has been killed by drug dealers, and my belief in death can only be abandoned. Maybe it won't be long before I am a devout MSL."

"However, what I believe in most now is money. When I have money, I will go to the Vatican to build a temple."

…