Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 8: I have a road abroad, and the risk is a bit high.

"Why did you beat him!"

"Don't you know that the first rule of our Third Ward is that you are not allowed to abuse prisoners?"

"Have you just come to prison? Idiot, they are more valuable in prison than your parents. If you want to die, why are you holding us back!"

Kona Velazquez slapped the table angrily, pointed at Victor and cursed, not because he really "cared" about him, but because he was afraid.

That's someone from the Medellin Group!

If the Guadalajara Group uses the "square" system to make money for all Mexicans, then Pablo of Medellin is simply arrogant.

He even wants to run for president.

At that time, he had already become a congressman, but he was exposed in public by the conscientious Minister of Justice. How did Pablo, who was already so proud, do this?

He directly sent someone to kill the Minister of Justice.

At worst, you might flip the table, but your bones are definitely not as hard as bullets anyway.

Kidnapping the children of high-ranking officials, torturing and killing justices, attacking the president, and blowing up civilian airliners, how can this be easy to mess with?

Of course, this does not mean that the Guadalajara Group is not vicious.

At least people dare to touch the people of the DEA (Drug Enforcement Administration). Even Pablo knew when he was at his most arrogant that it would be okay for you to kill ordinary Americans, but if you touch the DEA, they will really fight for your life.

The arrest of Stepan Blanchard was also a surprise, because Mexico and Colombia have no extradition clause and the two sides are arguing. Most importantly, the United States also hopes to extradite him for trial in the country.

But that doesn't mean you can bully the people of Medellin at will.

This is such a tough guy.

Conor Velazquez was afraid of being involved. Medellin, killing people, was always about eradicating the roots.

Looking at the commander in front of him who wanted to draw his gun and kill him, Victor looked very calm and pointed at his clothes, "He struck first. I can feel the harm he did to me. I was forced to fight back."

"Go talk to the drug dealers!"

Kona Velazquez was no longer willing to waste his saliva on the "dead man". He was friendly in the morning, but now he was full of disgust, pointing outside, "Get out, you idiot, if you don't believe it, you just Take your dog's leash and kneel in your cell and ask for forgiveness."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

"I'm sorry, my profession doesn't allow me to do this. I'm a policeman. It's not that I'm afraid of criminals, but that crime should be afraid of me!" Victor refused, saluted, and went out directly.

"Bastard! Bastard! Idiot!"

Kona Velasquez was stunned when he heard his words. There were some complicated emotions in his eyes, but they were quickly replaced by ferocity, and he cursed loudly, "Just wait to die."

Police officers passing by outside also saw this scene and heard the conversation between them.

Some people looked at him with high regard, while others looked at him like a dead dog.

There are always people who still stick to the moral bottom line in this dirty society.

...

But it’s actually just a hook.

This sentence was completely added by Victor himself. If I don't say it out loud, how can I improve my "positive image?"

The Mexican government is corrupt, but that does not mean that everyone is a lackey. There are also people who are trying to save the country. They hope to find this group of like-minded people and give them rights.

Pablo was wild outside, but he also knew how to maintain his base. When he died, tens of thousands of people gave him a gift in his hometown of Medellin.

People have two faces in life, one is for others to see, and the other is made by oneself.

I hold high the patriotic flag before the light.

Privately, patriotism is a business.

This is called creating a personality. If he has money in the future, Gao will prepare to publish a book and open a TV station, which is nothing more than exaggerating his own image.

Brother, if you just say a few words, no one will take it seriously, right?
Victor checked his watch and got off work early. No one said anything to him. Even the guards felt that the deputy supervisor would not live long. His life would be too early, let alone get off work?

But obviously what happened in the third ward quickly swept through the entire prison.

When he walked out, familiar people were pointing and no one dared to come near to talk. When he walked to the cafeteria and stood at the window, no one came to take food.

All afraid of being involved.

Avoiding danger is the instinct of carbon-based organisms.

Victor was not annoyed, so he helped himself when no one was there to pick up the food. He also scooped up a dozen extra chicken drumsticks and packed them back to the dormitory. If he couldn't finish the food, he could still use it as a late-night snack.

"He's not running away yet? He's not afraid of revenge."

"Run? Where to run? Even if you go to the government building, you may be assassinated. Instead, it is safer in the prison. If I were him, I would stay here for the rest of my life and never go anywhere."

Colleagues gathered together and pointed, but one pair of eyes looked at him with very complicated eyes.

……

evening.

It gets dark quickly.

The lights in the dormitory were a little dim, and Victor was writing in his notebook, occasionally frowning and thinking about it.

You can see a lot of things written densely on it. For example: strive to be assigned as the director with real power within six months to one year.

The location was tried not to be in the territory of large cross-border organizations such as Sinaloa and Tijuana, but after counting each state, damn, the territory controlled by drug traffickers occupied the entire country.

Chiapas, the poorest state, has a great geographical location because it is close to Guatemala and directly into Central America. Drug lords are now rampant.

He could only settle for the next best thing.

Three places were selected: Guadalupe Island in Baja California. This island is in the center of the Pacific Ocean and has a population of about 8. Because it is close to the United States, drug lords are rampant, but because it is surrounded by the sea, the drug traffickers want to launch Similar to a large-scale "armed attack" on land, it requires a bit more effort.

The traditional home territory of Tijuana, the established power.

The second option is: Taxco in the state of Guerrero. This city is located in the deep mountains and old forests. It used to be a place where Indians lived. Later, because the Indians’ scalps were too itchy, they chopped off their scalps and the place became Mexican. It is a gathering place with a population of more than 10. Because transportation is inconvenient, it is convenient to hide. It is a planting area.

The third one is: Juarez City in Chihuahua, the ancestral home of Juarez. It is located on the south bank of the Rio Grande, opposite El Paso in the United States. It is a classic smuggling paradise. You can see small businesses at night. Submarines transport drugs.

These three places were his choices, and in his notebook, he wrote a more detailed plan. When he was assigned as director, he would at least develop a group of more than 30 gunmen.

Some of these people can use their connections to join the police department. At that time, even if they lead their team on stage, they can have a lot of freedom.

The remaining part is involved in the local "black gold" market, contracting an arms business, and continuously providing himself with intelligence and US dollars.

Then use the money to invest in higher-level dignitaries.

The plans made in the notebook were very detailed, and if they were thrown out and picked up on the roadside, some people might think that this was some "idiot's" fantasy before his death, but for Victor, who had goals and pursuits in life, this was his own starting point!
If a person has no goals, what is the difference between him and a salted fish?
"Dong dong dong".

Just as he was adding plans to his notebook, the door rang, and the sound was very deep, perhaps because he didn't want others to hear it.

Victor stuffed his notebook into the table and took out a Colt M1911 from the side. The exchange value was 120 points, which was almost the same as a CZ 25 submachine gun.

Turn on the pistol safety and walk over cautiously.

Even in prison, you have to be careful.

"Who?"

"It's me, Casare." The voice at the door was deliberately lowered.

Victor opened the door, took a look, and after seeing the person clearly, he took off the chain linking the door, pulled the fat man in, looked around twice, and then closed the door.

"Have you figured it out? Do it with me?" Victor asked directly.

Casare, who has become a bitch, is still planning to set up a monument, and waved his hand, "I don't sell drugs. My father was killed by drugs. I swore that I would never touch drugs in my life."

"That thing is too competitive. If you have a small body like yours and get in, I'm afraid you'll be dead in the wilderness tomorrow."

Drug dealers certainly don't want anyone to steal their market.

If you come alone, I will make less money.

Colombia's famous "gentleman" drug lord, the Cary Group wanted to do business, so it was better to apply to Pablo. Gilbert, one of the founders, and Ochoa, one of the leaders of the Medellin Group, were childhood friends. Obtained a U.S. cocaine market sales license.

Ironic, right?
But in this business, if you don’t have the strength, don’t get involved.

Those who have the strength to use drugs are called warlords, those who have no strength are called gangsters, and those who have no strength are called gangsters.

Victor bent down and pulled out a big red suitcase from under the bed, like it was for a wedding. He opened it in front of Casare's eyes, and inside lay quietly an AK47 and a CZ 25 submachine gun.

He picked up the AK, pulled the bolt with his backhand, and patted the sound of the metal gun, "I'm in this business."

"Weapons?" Casare was really surprised.

He had thought a lot before coming here, wondering whether Victor would steal cars, organize sex sales, or even sell blood, but he didn't expect that he would be so big.

"I have a path in the Soviet Union. Although the risk is a bit high, the profit is very high. I just don't know how brave you are?"

"This AK47 is a pure Soviet product. I don't care how much you sell it. I only want 200 US dollars, and the rest will be used as your salary. If you have the money, even if you sell it for 1000 US dollars, I only want 200 US dollars."

"How about it? If you are good at eloquence, the sale of this gun will be enough to feed your family for a year. What you are most afraid of when you hang out outside is not making any money. I will give you a chance to make money now. I am a human being. The purpose is to eat together when brothers have money, and to make money together when brothers have money. I will never forget you for such a good thing."

Before Casare could say anything, he saw Victor stuffing the AK47 into his arms.

"Test the water first."

"But I think you need to find an acquaintance first. Otherwise, if you encounter someone who is cheating on you, I'm afraid I will have to attend your memorial service."

Are you going to hand out leaflets about the arms business?

Drugs may destroy a person's will, but arms can disintegrate a system. Do you think the Mexican military police will kill you?

Casare listened.

"I have a cousin who works for a society in Mexico City and is the leader. I can contact him."

Victor wasn't surprised at all.

In Mexico, who doesn’t have a relative who is a drug lord?

Nowadays, several major drug lords are still related to each other.

"Okay, let's make money together!"

……

(End of this chapter)