Working as a police officer in Mexico

Chapter 171 To be an agent, you have to sell out...

"killed!"

In the flower bed of the security department in Tijuana, Victor was interviewed by Time Magazine. The male reporter looked sanctimonious and asked a question, "What if one of your subordinates takes drugs?"

Victor answered simply.

The male reporter pretended to be surprised, "Aren't you worried that your remarks will make your subordinates have other ideas?"

"My subordinates are all heroes. They are fighting on the front line of anti-drugs. If I take drugs, I will allow them to kill me!"

"By the way, Mr. Myrion, you're not taking drugs, are you?" Victor leaned forward slightly and stared at the other person.

The male reporter was so scared that he was sweating.

He laughed awkwardly, "How is that possible? I've never been involved in these things."

Victor sniffed and made a gun look with his finger, "Don't let me catch you, or else..."

"Hahaha! Are you scared?" Victor laughed, stood up and patted the male reporter on the shoulder, "Don't worry, I'm not that cruel. Whether I'm guilty or not must be approved by the court."

However, in the court in Baja California, I don’t know who signed and sealed it.

Myrion clamped his legs in fear.

"Please continue." Victor stretched out his hand and made a gesture of invitation, completely taking the initiative to his side.

"Well, an organization in the United States conducted a survey. 75% of students believe that your methods can effectively curb drug dealers and control the entry of drugs into the United States. However, 25% of people think that you are excessive and indiscriminate killing. Do you think so? "

"First of all, I am very grateful that 75% of people agree with me. Secondly, I want to say to the remaining 25% of the bastards, go to NMD, are you sympathizing with drug dealers? Or are you sympathizing with criminals?"

"Please remember, when it comes to facing drug dealers, there is no such thing as indiscriminate killing, only not ruthless enough. I seriously doubt that the 25% of people have potential criminal genes. I propose that they be destroyed on the spot or sent to Mexico. , I let them experience the unique prison drug dealer style.”

Victor pointed at the camera, which frightened the photographer.

“If you want to die, come to Mexico to sell drugs!”

"I will make them understand where the cruelest death penalty is."

Myrian has interviewed many people, all of whom are celebrities in politics and business. Everyone attaches great importance to their own image. Even people with extremely poor reputations are very restrained when facing the camera.

But people like Victor are probably the first to "intimidate" the camera.

Myrion coughed, quickly changed the subject, and looked down at the manuscript, "Mr. Victor, some people suspect that you used gas bombs and other illegal weapons to deal with drug dealers. What do you think?"

Can you recognize this shit?

Victor is arrogant, but not stupid!

"How is this possible!" he said righteously.

Myrian nodded and handed over two photos of the police in a prepared manner, "These are photos taken at the US-Mexico border. The corpses on them are covered with maggots, the body is rotten, the face is hollow, and there is a smell of... Experts say it’s dichlorodiethyl sulfide.”

"Perhaps it was carried by drug dealers. They sell drugs, and poison gas is also a drug. What are they selling but not selling?"

Myrion was a professional, but he almost laughed at this sentence, "Do you believe it yourself?"

Victor spread his hands, "Whether you believe it or not, I believe it anyway."

In other words, you are an American journalist.

If not, now I'm here with a hammer, don't you believe it? I don’t believe you!

Myrion also knew that nothing could be extracted from this "liar" person, so he planned to end it, "That's it for today's interview, let's take a photo, Mr. Victor, the editor of the weekly cover.”

"Of course it's no problem, but I hope you can prepare me."

Myrion smiled and nodded.

Victor nodded to Casare, who hurriedly greeted the staff to bring out the prepared things.

A military uniform soaked in blood.

There is a painting on white paper, with a blue sky painted on it. There is a family of four working on the ground. The old man at the door is leaning on the edge of the door and smiling, and there is a yellow dog squatting at his feet.

Victor looked solemn, "This is the blood-stained coat of a soldier named Alvarez when he died. He was a staff officer of the 442nd Regiment in Sonora, but he knew that Mexico's anti-drug cause would never wither. He led his soldiers to bring order to the chaos and captured Sinaloa's 30-acre industrial area in Obregon City, where he was killed at the age of 24. "

He stretched out his hand to another painting, "And this is the situation in Baja California painted by the children of Guadalupe Island. In an environment without drug dealers, the sky is blue, there are families, affection, There is beauty and there is a future.”

Victor looked at the shocked Myrian, "Please help me and my comrades take a photo together. Why don't we just say, Mexico is bleeding, waiting for peace!"

Myrion admitted that there was something extraordinary about the man who sat upright.

He asked the photographer to hurry up and take pictures.

Click!

This photo is destined to be accepted into history.

"Mr. Victor, I pay high respect to you and your police officers." When leaving, Myrion shook hands with him solemnly.

"Fighting drug dealers is the common dream of all human beings. We are just always moving forward." Victor's words are always full of the magnanimity of a positive character.

Myrion said goodbye with a smile, and he breathed a sigh of relief after he and his companions took the tools to the car, "He reminded me of someone."

"Who?"

"Castro!"

The companion looked at him in surprise, and then lowered his voice, "Do you think he will become an alternative opponent of the United States?"

Myrion glanced at him, "But isn't what he is doing what all mankind yearns for?"

After all, there are still a few people who want to take drugs.

Everyone hopes that the sky is blue.

Victor stood in the flower bed and looked at the bloody clothes for a long time, "How is the construction of the museum going?"

"It's almost built."

"After opening, remember to remind me that many of our comrades are sleeping before the light, and we have to go see them."

Victor is not as free and easy as others look.

But people always have to look forward. He is the soul of this anti-drug unit. He has to cheer himself up. There are more challenges in the future.

GM has not succeeded yet!

Victor walked back to the office building, "Let the Archduke Victor bombard the port of Peñasco! Urge local drug dealers to surrender!"

"Ground troops are moving southward, I want to take Sonora within two months!"

...

Bogota, Santa Fe, Colombia.

In Pablo's manor.

Ethan Hunt had no right to enter the next door to eavesdrop. He was arranged in the next room, sitting on the sofa, glancing at the bodyguard at the door, tapping his fingers, and suddenly stood up.

"What's the matter?" The bodyguard at the door frowned and looked over.

Ethan Hunt smiled and pointed at the water dispenser, "I just want to get a glass of water."

The bodyguard nodded.

Ethan Hunt walked over slowly, picked up the disposable cup from the table, glanced at the door, pressed a button on his suit, and stuffed it under the table with his backhand.

This is a bug.

Since we are here, we can't waste anything.

He was about to bend down to get some water when he heard the door open next door, and then Blanco's voice came, "Victor~"

"Ms. Blanco, are you calling Victor?" A male voice next to him was obviously confused.

"Yes? My new boyfriend, do you know him, Mr. Guzman?"

"Hahaha, of course not, it's just that the dictator in Mexico is also called this name."

Blanco nodded, this name is too common in Latin America.

Ethan Hunt responded, walked out with a smile on his face, and handed over the water cup, "Thank you for your hard work, come and drink some water."

As he said this, he glanced at the big guy who followed him out, and his eyelids twitched.

MD!

Guzman, Aguilar, Abrego, the three giants of Mexico are all here, as well as the four godfathers of the Cali Group in Colombia, and Pablo behind.

Fuck!

At this time, I should call for a bombing. If this shot goes down, even if I die, Mr. Victor will remember me!

Blanco looked at the obedient "Victor", touched his face, and said to Guzman with a smile, "My Victor is much more obedient than the Mexican one."

The dwarf glanced at Ethan Hunt, smiled and nodded, and turned to leave.

When the four godfathers of the Cali Group left, Salcedo, who was in charge of intelligence, kept staring at Ethan Hunt. His intuition told him that there was a big problem with this duck.

But he couldn't take him away for questioning, Blanco would shoot him.

He could only leave with doubts.

Ethan Hunt was shocked, squinted his eyes, and glanced at Salcedo's back. He must kill this intelligence chief!

Kill him!

"Let's go." Blanco patted his hand.

Following her into the car and leaving the manor, Ethan Hunt didn't ask what was said in the room along the way. If you say some things too much, you will fail!

When we returned to Blanco's mansion.

Ethan Hunt was driven to take a shower. It seems that today he really can't do without...selling his body!

When he was about to come out, Blanco couldn't wait to rush in.

In the bathtub...

(This is not good, 10,000 words omitted!)

Boom!

It was raining heavily outside, Ethan Hunt looked outside and pulled the quilt.

Damn it, Victor!

You let me sell my body for this!

Ethan Hunt really wanted to ask Blanco to stop snoring when he slept.

Men get sleepy when they are tired.

When he woke up the next day, he just stretched his waist and found that Blanco next to him was gone. He wrapped himself in a bath towel and saw a check and a piece of paper on the table in the room.

"You are delicious, my Victor~ I need to be busy today. Here is 300,000 US dollars. You were great yesterday. Go buy something today. See you in the evening, your Blanco."

Ethan Hunt looked at the check in his left hand.

300,000 US dollars!

Rich woman!

I'm still okay.

Men, how can you say no to money?

Ethan Hunt changed his clothes and came downstairs. When the servant saw him, he ran up and said, "Sir, this is the car key that Miss Blanco gave you."

Blanco likes people to call him Miss, which makes him look younger.

Looking at the Mercedes Benz handed over, Ethan Hunt took a deep breath. It is indeed more comfortable to be a duck than an agent. Isn't it just public food?

He thanked him and drove away in the enviable eyes of the servants.

He stopped at a convenience store, parked within the white line, and obeyed the traffic rules.

In the convenience store, he seemed to be looking for something, but he kept looking outside.

Sure enough, he found two people with sneaky traces.

It looks like…

Someone is also eyeing me!

…