Working as a police officer in Mexico

Victor was still sitting in the conference room smoking a cigarette.

Half a root cannot be wasted.

As soon as he stuffed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and was about to get up, Jason Bourne ran in with a serious look on his face.

"Boss!"

Victor hadn't seen this expression on his face for a long time.

"What's wrong?"

"Informants from Mexico's International Information Department said that Juarez, Gulf Group, and Sinaloa are planning to merge!"

Victor hurriedly took the document from his hand and heard Jason Bourne continue, "Moreover, I also heard that they plan to unite with Colombia's major drug lords to form a new organization."

"They plan to huddle together for warmth."

"According to the information we received, it was indeed discovered that Aguilar left Mexico for a period of time, but we are still investigating exactly where he went."

Victor nodded, it would be strange if the Mexican drug cartel didn't unite. To put it bluntly, one on one, which organization can fight Victor now!

Just beat the shit out of your ass and stuff it into your mouth.

If you can't beat them, just shake them off. Isn't this the way it has been since ancient times?

However, the courage and courage of the three giants to merge and form an alliance with the Colombians really made Victor feel that Guzman and others were worthy of being drug lords.

How could one be a fool who could step by step from a small mountain village in Sinaloa to become a world-famous drug lord?

"Where's Ethan Hunt?"

Jason Bourne looked strange, "He took an annual leave to travel."

"Why are you traveling? Come back and work overtime!"

"Ask him to take people to Colombia to establish a branch of the Mexican International News Service. I want to know what underwear Pablo is wearing today. Bring more people and don't starve him."

Victor now has enough manpower. When he came back, he directly helped the Mexican International News Department from a "shabby small department" of 40 people to a "big group" of 400 people. He also continued to inject 30 million US dollars and equipped it with a series of military equipment.

The template for reference is: the CIA's, which is more professional.

When the time comes to develop "peripheral personnel", maybe we will really show it to the CIA. Overseas intelligence agencies will be shocked!

The remaining 1,000 people were recruited for the "logistics department", including ground staff, ordnance, tanks, vehicles, aircraft, and ship (ship) maintenance personnel.

A team of 15 pilots was also secretly formed.

So many people spent nearly 600 million points, mainly technicians, those engaged in intelligence, maintenance, and airplane piloting. Which one is cheaper?

Especially for flying airplanes, the cost for the US military to train a basically qualified fighter pilot ranges from US$5.6 million for the F-16 to US$10.9 million for the F-22; the training cost for bomber pilots is also very high, ranging from US$730 for the B-1 Ranging from $9.7 million for the B-52, command, control, intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance operations pilots (such as the RC-135) cost about $5.5 million per pilot to train.

Even if the Cat Bear falls, pilots are precious assets and rarely circulate in the market. And even if they don’t fly military aviation, they can still fly civil aviation. Who will serve in the Mexican police department?

The plate is still not big enough!

Victor still has some spots, so don’t worry about it for the time being.

Can’t afford it!

"Report this matter to the DEA!" Victor thought for a moment, but still planned to drag the giant into the water. His intuition told him that this battle might not be easy!

Although there are several countries mixed between Mexico and Colombia, what if the military leaders in these countries are dragged away by drug traffickers?

"Let the financial department discuss it again, improve the welfare benefits of the police, and recruit all the 15,000 National Guard personnel. If that doesn't work, we can go outside and post recruitment notices at the military base. We must recruit all the people by the end of September. "

"Boss, I think we can ask Best to go to Vietnam to find someone. There seems to be a war still going on there." Jason Bourne suggested.

Victor squinted his eyes and looked into the distance. He said nothing. After thinking for a moment, he shook his head and said, "Let's talk about it later."

Jason Bourne responded. After coming out of the conference room, he walked to the phone hanging in the corner, threw in a coin, pressed the number, and after two rings, the phone was answered.

"Hello~" Ethan Hunter's relaxed voice sounded.

Jason Bourne's eyes twitched as he listened to the sound of the waves and the woman's laughter coming from the opposite side, MD, I, the person in charge, am working overtime, but you are having a relaxing time.

"It's me, Jason, where are you?"

"Oh~ I'm in Lake Tahoe, Nevada, oh, damn! Honey, can you put some clothes on, OMG, your butt is so perky."

Jason Bourne was immediately furious, "CNMD! Ethan Hunt, the boss wants you to come back and work overtime!"

"Are you kidding me? I've taken annual leave and there are still 10 days left." Ethan Hunter on the other side was stunned and said quickly.

“Annual leave can be cancelled!”

"If you don't come back, I will throw you to Siberia." Jason Bourne's voice was full of revenge, "You don't want to grow potatoes in the ice and snow, do you?"

Ethan Hunter wailed, "You are exploiting your employees."

"Yes! Man, please come back and report at six o'clock tomorrow evening, otherwise your performance award this year will be gone!" After that, he hung up.

Listening to the empty tone on the phone, Ethan Hunter cursed.

A girl came up and directly...covered his face, "Honey, whose phone number is it?"

Ethan Hunt almost choked, "An old virgin!"

The bikini girl was startled and smiled happily.

…

Late at night.

Tijuana comes alive again at night.

Although the previous "war on drugs" put a damper on nightlife for two or three days, it quickly regained its popularity.

City Hall can't maintain martial law forever, and it won't raise taxes.

In the 13th block in the northwest corner of the city, there is a complex population. On average, a homicide occurs every 20 hours, a robbery every 17 hours, and a theft every 27 minutes.

A lot of garbage gathers here, but of course, not everyone is garbage.

There are also people who work hard to live.

jump jump jump…

The sound of the basketball hitting the ground was very clear, and I saw a dozen black people playing basketball in an open-air basketball court. There were dozens of spectators sitting around, including some little girls?

A black man dunked and his whole body was hanging on it, but the ball bounced out and didn't go in at all. The people next to him booed and laughed.

The black man looked embarrassed and waved towards his teammates.

At this time, the basketball rolled to the side of a trash can. A thin old woman was rummaging through the trash can, and behind her stood a skinny little boy, holding a woven bag in his hand.

"Hey! Throw the basketball over here." The black man who dunked shouted twice, and the little boy responded timidly. He grabbed the basketball and threw it hard, but he didn't have enough strength to throw it very far.

"Trash!" the black man who dunked cursed, walked over to pick up the basketball, and frowned at the little boy in front of him. Listening to the laughter of the audience next to him, he didn't know which one was wrong, so he just picked up the basketball. Just smashed it over.

peng!

The little boy was knocked directly to the ground. The old woman who was picking up garbage hurriedly got up when she heard the noise, turned around and quickly helped her little grandson.

Black people's minds...you have no way of knowing what they're thinking!

"Grandma!" The little boy cried and grabbed the old woman's arm, huddled in fear and trembling.

"Hush! James, you are still bullying a child." Someone next to him shouted.

"No!"

The black man who dunked glared at the speaker, walked over to pick up the basketball, and happened to see the banknotes exposed from the old woman's pocket. His eyes lit up and he snatched it away!

"This...this is my money, my money!" The old woman stretched out her hand in a panic, but when the black man raised it, he couldn't get it at all.

"Please give it back to me. I want to buy medicine for my grandson! Please."

The old woman cried and even knelt on the ground begging him not to play tricks on the poor man, but this behavior did not arouse the sympathy of the other party at all, but instead aroused ridicule from the surrounding people.

"Knock a few more, hahaha, knock a few more!" the black man smiled.

"Don't bully my grandma!" The little boy's eyes were red, and he didn't know where the strength came from. He rushed forward, hugged the black man's thigh, and bit him!

The other party screamed in pain and slapped him to the ground. He opened his trouser legs and saw two teeth marks on them. He went up angrily and kicked him. When the old woman saw this, she hurriedly hugged the child.

He kicked the opponent in the back and almost couldn't breathe.

The black man was still angry and kicked him hard and cursed.

Someone next to him noticed something was wrong and shouted, "James, stop fighting. Are you going to beat her to death?" He came up and grabbed him.

"I'm going to beat him to death. Don't hold me back or bite me. Do you know who I am? You bastard, do you know who I hang out with?"

"In Block 12, I'm not responsible for killing people!"

"Grandma! Grandma!" the little boy cried while lying on the old woman.

This sound... is uncomfortable to hear.

squeak~

Suddenly, there was the sound of a tire braking on the ground. Looking up, they saw a police van parked outside the basketball court, and a man got out of the car.

"The police are here, come on, James." His companion pulled him down.

"What are you afraid of? The police have nothing to be afraid of."

"You idiot, the police are not scary, Victor is!"

Upon hearing this name, James shrank his head and was about to leave when Sweet, who was patrolling here, shouted, "Stop!"

But the black people, who saw something was wrong, didn't listen.

beng!

There was a gunshot, and James fell to the ground holding his legs, wailing and rolling over. The others were frightened and stopped quickly.

"Which of you can outrun my bullets?" Sweet grinned, glanced at the old woman in the distance, and said to the police officer, "Go and have a look."

"James Raymond, nicknamed: First Auto, is a street gangster in Block 12. He has committed 7 robberies, 17 fights, and 2 rapes. He also briefly joined a drug cartel." Piette Holding in hand a roster with recent criminal records, facing a photo.

"You've committed so many things, and you can still come out? Who is standing behind you?" Sweet asked, frowning.

But James just ignored it and howled.

"Boss... I can't survive anymore. He was kicked to death." The police officer over there who observed the old woman's condition shouted.

Sweet immediately became angry.

"Shotgun!"

The police officer behind him handed over a Winchester Defender 1300 shotgun. Sweet pulled the bolt and shot James in the head, who was lying on the ground!

Still not relieved, pull again, hit again!

This brain is completely destroyed...

"TMD, who did James hang out with!" Sweet asked loudly to a black woman standing next to him. The woman had a nose ring and a tattoo on her face, which read: Al diablo conmigo! ( X me! )

The black woman was so frightened that her legs were shaking and she didn't even listen to the question.

Sweet also shot her...

The location where it was hit immediately fell apart.

"Who is James hanging out with? Answer me!" He continued to question the other person.

"Don't... don't kill me! Don't kill me!"

"Answer me! Bastard!"

"Follow "Locomotive" Felix Hills in Block 12!"

bong!

Sweet shot him directly in the head. After the body stood upright, it fell heavily.

"Thanks!"

Sweet glanced at the frightened and trembling audience around him and grinned, "Are there any of you who are still in the club?"

…