Working as a police officer in Mexico

Dragan almost choked to death as he spat.

"What? Eight hundred dollars? Are you robbing?"

This saliva is almost spraying on Casare's face.

His head subconsciously dodges back, mainly because the other party has a really bad mouth. He robbed me and negotiated the price with you, but he hit you directly on the forehead.

However, do you do business without shouting high prices?

Do you think you are preaching?

"What, is it too expensive? The cost of making an AK47 is about 200 US dollars. It is shipped from the Soviet Union to Mexico. I only charge you a small fee. Dragan, have I ever lied to you since you were a child?" Casare took it. The rifle, unloading the magazine, "standard 30 rounds of ammunition, when you go out to shoot with others at night, he uses a pistol, and he becomes impotent in an instant, and you, my cousin, you can use this to tell him, who can He’s the boss of this street.”

"Most organizations in Mexico use American products. If you were the first to use Soviet-style weapons, it would be so cool. Didn't you say that you wanted to be the most unique one since you were a child? American rifles were shipped here, but It’s more than 800 US dollars, and among similar guns, AK has experienced actual combat experience.”

Terrorists always use AK when they go out, and they agree to use it.

Every word Casare said was embedded in Dragan's heart. He looked at the driver and the two strong men in the back seat, raised his chin slightly, "What do you think?"

"I think it's good, boss. If we had this guy, would the guys from the Whale Brotherhood still dare to rob those two KTVs from us? Just kill them." The driver said bluntly.

The two strong men in the back seat also nodded.

Their organization is not big, only about 20 people, occupying two streets, and collect protection fees from shops, especially large ones like KTV and brothels, with an annual turnover of about 500,000 US dollars!

The salary of an ordinary boy is about 1,000 pesos per month. As a "security backbone", Dragan is responsible for charging, and he can get 1,000 US dollars per month, which is an absolutely high salary.

Take the money, of course you want to get more!

The boss said that if the street next to it was demolished, the salary would be doubled.

Don't think that the ordinary Mexican community is awesome. They also use machetes and there is a shortage of guns. The arms smuggled from the United States are all ordered by the drug lords. They come here in pieces, just after crossing the border. He was divided up by a large organization with many informants.

It is difficult for a small organization like Dragan to develop.

"Okay, eight hundred is eight hundred. Write a receipt and I'll reimburse you." Dragan took out the green coins from his wallet. Franklin's bald head looked really damn handsome to Casare.

"By the way, write me $900."

Good guy, you even get kickbacks!

After swiping, he wrote the receipt and handed it over. Casare took the dollar bills with both hands and threw the backpack over. "There are 100 bullets in it. This is a gift from me. Others don't have it, but that's all I have." You have the authority. Next time you want bullets, you have to pay for them.”

Dragan's eyes lit up and he opened his backpack. Sure enough, there were two boxes of ammunition lying inside. He looked at Casare with a more friendly look.

After getting the money, Casare was about to leave. As soon as he opened the door and his feet touched the ground, he seemed to think of something, "By the way, we also provide rocket launchers, landmines, and grenades. If necessary, we will You can contact me and I will guarantee a preferential price for you.”

The slogan cannot be forgotten.

This is moral integrity.

After saying that, he got out of the car and closed the door, waved to Dragan in the co-pilot, put his pockets in his pockets and left gracefully.

"Boss, isn't your cousin an arms dealer?" The driver looked at his back in the rearview mirror and couldn't help but ask curiously.

"Arms dealer? How is that possible? He has never been out of Mexico."

Dragan frowned, "Maybe he is working for some big boss."

"Forget it, leave him alone, let's go, go back and tell the boss first. If it works really well, I will ask the boss to apply for funds. By then, we will have more than a dozen AKs, and we will become bigger and stronger!"

…

Casare still found it a bit exciting to engage in "illegal activities" for the first time. This was different from ordinary collecting black money. It was the pity of others, but it was actually his own business.

He ran to the market opposite the prison. Although it was lively at night, it also did business during the day. The prostitute who was not awake was leaning next to the tent, with a cigarette in her mouth and yawning. She was as skinny as a drug addict.

The experienced Casare knew at a glance that it was smelly, fishier than scallops, and after one bite, it was transformed into the mother's body.

Just as he was about to walk inside, he saw an ice cream truck. He licked his lips and walked over, "Give me one."

I took a few licks of the ice cream in my hand, and my eyes shone.

When he was a child, he liked to eat ice cream the most, but his family was poor and his mother had to support four of her own, which was very tiring. He was the oldest, sensible, and reluctant to eat ice cream. Although it only cost 2 pesos, it gave the family one more bite. meal.

When he grew up and worked, the treatment of police officers was worse than that of dogs. At least military dogs were given a meal standard of 10 pesos a day. Casare kept his salary and gave it to his parents. His younger brothers and sisters had to study, and he hoped that his mother would be less tired.

but now…

With a "huge sum" of eight hundred dollars in his pocket, he was finally able to eat as much as he wanted.

"Shh~"

A whistle interrupted Casare's thoughts, and he saw Victor, dressed in black, sitting under an umbrella on the roadside with a glass of juice in front of him.

"Have you been here for a long time?" Casare ran over and asked.

"It's only been half an hour, how are things going?"

Casare took out the money from his pocket, put it directly on the table, and pushed it over, "Sold for a total of eight hundred US dollars."

Victor looked at the green coins on the table and was very satisfied. He picked up two and pushed the rest back to him, "We agreed, I only need 200 US dollars, and the rest is yours."

Looking at the U.S. dollars on the table, Casare's Adam's apple rolled. He thought Victor was just telling the story, but who knew it was true?

With a sarcastic laugh, he took out a dollar bill and said, "I can just take one. I didn't do anything. You also provided the goods."

He is self-aware, understands his position, and understands who the main leader of this business is. If Victor is unhappy if he takes too much, will he still make money?

Don't be so stupid as to think that the leader said: It's okay. If you have any opinions about me, you can raise them.

Then you really believed it, and you talked about his shortcomings.

The next day, you were fired because you walked in with your left foot first.

Don't believe in the school's grading, which seems random, but haven't you noticed that the rows and rows are all arranged?

If you really break it, just wait.

The world is full of routines, you have to learn to distinguish them.

Casare thought that Victor's previous statement of only $200 was a casual mention.

Victor was obviously very satisfied when he saw that Casare was so "sensible". At least he had a general understanding of people and pushed the money in front of him. "I just do what I say. No one can touch my money. It belongs to you." Yes, I won’t move, take it, we will make a lot of money in the future.”

To do "gray business", you have to make your younger brothers earn money. If you just paint a pie for them, sooner or later, they will make a hole in your head.

What is in hand is the actual thing.

No matter how much you say, it is not as good as a piece of steel.

Seeing that Victor was serious, Casare raised his head and looked at him. The latter smiled at him and pointed at the money, "Hide it and put it on the table. People will snatch it away later."

After saying this, he drank up the juice in front of him and stood up holding on to the sides of the chair, "Let's go to the city to find Best."

After hearing this, Casare grabbed the money on the table and stuffed it into his inner pocket. He looked around and saw a woman not far away staring at him, baring his teeth, like It's a food guard dog.

If anyone dares to touch his things, he will bite them to death!

Try not to take a taxi in Mexico, because you don’t know where they will take you, and you don’t know if they are drug dealers working part-time. If you see that you are beautiful, oh well, you will be the number one in the nightclub tomorrow.

Therefore, take a qualified bus as much as possible.

But the bus is also dangerous.

In 1985, when Donetto, the third-largest figure in the Guadalajara cartel, was arrested, his subordinates directly launched a riot in order to confront the government. Armed drug dealers rushed into the streets and killed everyone they saw.

An elementary school bus was stopped while passing through the city center. This gang of vicious and inhumane bastards opened fire with guns, killing 24 students and teachers in the bus. The average age of the children was 7 years old.

A bus carrying migrant workers who were finally returning home after a hard day's work was also forced to stop, and then six of the men were beheaded and their heads were thrown into the city hall.

This country is rotten to the extreme!

You can't expect anyone to save you. When Jesus comes, you have to learn to smoke marijuana, otherwise you won't be able to blend in.

Fortunately, Victor and the others did not encounter this bad luck. After sitting at the station, they found a diesel three-wheeler and drove straight to Kima Huakan.

Chimahuacan is actually a large slum in Mexico City. There are about 1 million people here, which is one-fifth of the population of Mexico City.

It's much bigger than Tiantongyuan.

Victor understood the detailed address and showed it to the driver who was pulling him. The driver made an OK sign, turned the accelerator, and drove through the streets.

This driver was also a reckless man. When he passed by a narrow road, he used his voice as a trumpet. When he saw someone sitting at the door, he would not let him go and rushed over. The woman who was so angry that she was almost hit yelled curses behind her.

The bold and unruly children chased the vehicles. If they saw foreigners, they might have started to rob the vehicles by now.

As soon as he entered Kimahuacán, Victor's face was gloomy and cautious, and he handed the Colt M1911 to Casare, "Take it, just in case."

"And you?"

Victor glanced at him, opened his clothes, and revealed the Uzi submachine gun inside, "You have to bring something for self-defense when you go out, otherwise I won't feel at ease."

Kasare's eyes were bulging, and he didn't know how to describe it. He nodded, took the pistol, and stuffed it into his waist.

The third round was very fast, and we arrived at our destination in more than half an hour. However, Best's door was kicked open and fell directly to the ground. There were sounds of smashing and cursing in the house.

"It seems that we arrived at an unlucky time."

Victor walked into the house, and Casare followed after paying. He saw four young people in their early teens surrounding a man, who was lying on the ground.

A young man was peeing on him.

Hearing the movement at the door, the four people turned their heads at the same time and saw the man coming in with a submachine gun pointed at them.

"Gentlemen, if you urinate anywhere, your tools will be confiscated!"

…