Working as a police officer in Mexico

Casare rarely gets angry.

But Victor, his "dear brother", "Mexican father", and "life mentor", is his Achilles' heel.

After checking in at the hotel, he wrote this in his notebook.

"The American natives lack a certain amount of reverence, which is not good. Perhaps, this is the price of freedom."

Let the people of Detroit see Victor's iron fist first!

After "writing down" all his thoughts, he felt much better and picked up the documents in his briefcase.

The American Veterans Retirement Center hopes that Victor can "help" at least 100 retired soldiers "re-employed".

100?

Victor didn't plan to recruit so many American silvers, but this kind of KPI is to give people performance, so he could only agree to it, but it is absolutely impossible to put them in the police force.

What a joke.

Letting these monsters in directly corrupt the discipline.

The discipline of some European and North American armies is really poor!

There are many reports of American soldiers being caught for prostitution, and there was even a horrifying scene. When fighting overseas, in order to catch a criminal, they raped a local’s wife, and then tied up her husband and watched with their own eyes.

When they left, they blew up the other party’s family!

This incident caused an uproar.

It is better to send two dogs to let such scum join the police force. At least after the dogs are castrated, they really can’t play.

However, we can’t not give face to the Americans.

In a dilemma, someone gave Victor an idea.

Why not set up a foreign legion?

"Mexican Foreign Legion!"

Recruit all citizens except Mexicans, but this organization is not in Mexico, but under the name of Victor's "Hope" Group, and they are funded by the Northern Governor's Office to "commission" them to fight against drug dealers!

That is commonly known as PMC company (war contractor).

Won't Victor make a fortune again?

Of course, this kind of company is also suitable for doing dirty work. If something really happens, they can take the blame if they pull someone out.

The most important thing is that Victor has a little idea. If, he said if, in the future, he really breaks up with some countries, this "mercenary" can be airdropped to the other party's territory and do evil.

Even when necessary, it can help Victor earn foreign exchange.

In the African market, there is a great demand for coups. The kind of scoundrels like Nigo only know how to shoot, and have no technical content at all. It depends on professionals.

You pay money, and Victor's "PMC" company will give you a position. As long as the price is enough, you just need to think about how to sit on it.

Die...

At most, give some pension.

How much to give depends on Victor's conscience.

Do you really think that the Americans will stand up for these "red deer"?

Stop it, they are just worried that these people will cause unnecessary trouble to the society.

When Casare was about to add a few more strokes to the "PMC" plan, he heard the phone ring.

? ? ?

The phone in the hotel rang automatically?

What the hell?

Squeak~

Casare pulled out a chair, frowned and picked up the phone, "Hello~"

"Good evening, Mr. Casare." The voice on the other end was a woman's, very charming, the kind that makes you hard as soon as you hear it, and she deliberately dragged the voice.

"Sorry, I don't need a prostitute!" Fatty Ka hung up the phone directly.

Not sleeping well in the middle of the night, talking on the phone and still talking so coquettishly, can you be a normal person?

He was about to sit back when the phone rang again. Casare was a little impatient. How could Hilton allow prostitutes to harass guests like this?

He grabbed the phone with dissatisfaction, "I don't want it, I don't want a prostitute!"

"I'm not a prostitute! Mr. Casare!" The woman on the other end smiled stiffly.

"Then who are you?"

"Come out for a drink, let's meet and talk."

"Talk about your mother!" Casare hung up the phone directly, unplugged the phone line, and said with a dark face, "Big idiot!"

At this moment, in the British office in Detroit.

A woman with big wavy hair, wearing a red skirt, painted toenails, and holding a cigarette in her hand was startled when she heard the empty sound in the microphone, but then she stood up angrily, smashed the microphone directly to the ground, and cursed, "Damn stinky fat man! Fuck XXX!"

"Hey, who made our Black Rose unhappy?" A young white man turned the door and came in and said with a smile.

"Get out, George, don't force me to kick your balls!" The woman cursed with a tiger face, took a puff of cigarette, and became more and more angry. Her beauty plan didn't work, and she was so angry that she threw the cigarette directly to the ground.

Hearing the other party's abuse, the white man's eyes flashed with resentment, and he unscrupulously glanced at the other party's figure, imagining in his mind how he would press the other party under him, swallowed his saliva, and said with a smile, "I hope you can complete the task, Alyssa, your task this year has not been completed yet, don't be the last one again."

He ran away as soon as he finished speaking.

As soon as the door closed, the woman picked up the ashtray and smashed it.

Obviously, she has a very bad temper.

Alyssa took a deep breath, frowned, and thought about the next countermeasure.

How can we make the other party go astray.

Casare, who was in the hotel, felt something was wrong. This call might be from someone with bad intentions. He called all the other colleagues over and said to them with a serious face, "No one is allowed to leave my sight without permission. Everyone must work with at least two people, and no one is allowed to go out alone."

His serious expression made everyone look at each other.

"What happened? Sir." one of them asked.

"A rat is targeting us." Casare squinted, "Be careful. If any suspect approaches you, tell her to get out, especially a woman."

"X who comes to your door is either syphilis or AIDS. Be careful. If anyone messes with me, I will throw him into the Pacific Ocean!"

Everyone looked embarrassed, but they nodded vigorously under Casare's gaze.

Seeing that they were obedient, Fatty Ka's face softened slightly.

The identity is different now.

Governor General of the North of Mexico...Grand Constable.

To a certain extent, this has allowed some countries to formally treat each other.

The more people want to "climb" into his bed, the more cautious Casare has to be.

A new war has begun!

…

Soviet Union. Rostov.

In this quiet city, Victor "Envoy" Best was sitting in a cafe in a daze, quietly looking at the street outside.

Empty.

A gust of wind blew, and the garbage bags on the ground were rolled up several meters high, and finally fell down again. The city was like this.

Should we say the incompetence of those in power or the necessity of society?

Under these empty streets, there is the cry of the poor, but it is also the carnival of capital. What does Best mean?

He considered himself something of a thief.

He was stealing from a landlord who was about to starve to death, and the landlord's house was full of gold.

He recently planned to short the ruble.

Use the collateral to borrow U.S. dollars from the bank, and then agree to repay the loan in rubles. Of course, he can't do this alone. You have to find a "Su traitor."

The thief discovered that it was the landlord's son who had moved things out of the house.

How funny.

He took out a cigarette and lit one for himself.

The waiter who was lying idle at the front desk raised his head when he heard the sound of lighter, but he just glanced at it and pretended that it didn't happen.

The cafes are going out of business.

It’s good to have guests.

The reason why Best is here today is because he was invited by someone else, an Italian who is... not punctual.

He looked at his watch and saw that the other party was already ten minutes late.

"Waiter, pay the bill." He raised his hand and just shouted, when he saw two people walking in the door, both white people, one of them was a short man in a blue suit...

He is not tall, but his beard is very sexy.

When he saw Best, he raised his hand in a familiar manner, "Mr. Best?"

"You are late, Mr. Sironymus. If it were not for Colonel Motyakin's sake, I would have left."

"I'm very sorry, there's a traffic jam on the way." The other party smiled and said an apology, but his expression and excuse were genuine and fake.

Everyone on this street is running. You said there is a traffic jam.

Best also laughed angrily and looked at the other person up and down. He saw that the Italian was the Mo family kid who had such a big mouth, and half of his head was put up for auction on the black market.

He was not a good-tempered person. He stood up directly and said, "Sorry, I have to go home. Otherwise, the road will be crowded with people. You know, I hate crowds."

Silonymus was startled, looked at the opponent's bodyguard, frowned, stretched out his hand, and blocked Best's way.

"Since you are so anxious, I want to do a business with you."

“Worthless!”

make money?

Best raised his eyebrows. He couldn't say no to the money and looked at him, "What?"

If the benefits are sufficient, he is willing to forgive the other party's behavior.

"I know who you work for. I can give you $500,000 as long as you help me collect information about Victor."

The other party said it directly.

NTM, aren’t those who engage in intelligence work secretly?

Where did the second B come from!

However, there is no requirement that those engaged in intelligence must have a high IQ.

Later, Big Mao appeared once. 50 newly graduated rookie agents made big news. To celebrate their graduation, they rented dozens of luxury cars and paraded through the city. They drove through the streets at lightning speed, occupying driveways, honking horns, and whistling. , and even teased women on the roadside.

Not only that, they also hired a professional videographer to record it all.

In the end, he made a desperate move and posted the video clips online.

Then they were sent to Siberia to dig cherry blossom potatoes, a place where you can race cars, but the only thing that attracts them is bears anyway.

This video is exquisitely produced, has cool background music, and most importantly, is very clear, clearly showing the faces of these young people for everyone to see.

Gotta understand.

There is no limit to stupidity. (It’s a fantasy novel because reality is really SB!)

Best's heart skipped a beat, he squinted his eyes and looked at the other person, "Who do you serve?"

"Democratic Security Intelligence Service of the Ministry of Interior, we can support you to take the position of Northern Governor..."

Italy is indeed peace-loving, and even its intelligence agencies have the word "democracy" in them, indicating that they are promising.

"You are as stupid as in World War II." Best interrupted him, and before the other party could react, he kicked his bodyguard away, held down Sironimus' neck tightly, and He pressed down on the table, grabbed the ashtray on it and swung it with his backhand, hitting it on the back of the head.

The bodyguard reacted and screamed twice. Best's bodyguard took out his gun and shot him in the head.

He was still in shock when he died.

You...you shot? !

Can't afford it!

"Ah~!!" the cafe staff screamed and ran away.

Best grabbed Sironimus by the hair, pulled him to the front desk, took out a fruit knife, and cut off his ear with a click. The other person covered the wound and screamed, "Idiot! 500,000? You are special Do you know how much my annual salary is?”

"A poor man also comes to imitate others and bribe others?"

The more Best said, the angrier he became, and the fruit knife pierced his right cheek with his backhand, stabbing his face directly.

You guys, you want me to betray Victor?

No one who teams up with you will end well.

The German troops all went to the enemy's crystal, and the Italians surrendered crazily after being captured in the jungle, which really deceived their teammates.

Moreover, he was the first country in Europe to be defeated by an African "tribe"!

Just this kind of stuff...

The Germans said they won’t even take shit with you.

"Kill him!" Best let go of his hand, and Sironymus fell to the ground twitching, he said to the bodyguard.

The latter nodded, took out his gun and shot the opponent three times.

Best originally turned around and wanted to leave, but by some mistake, he squatted down and touched his pocket, and took out a bill of lading.

"Uranium-238 bill of lading!"

He had good grades when he was studying. When he saw this, his eyes suddenly widened and he took a breath. It was written by hand and in Spanish.

all over…

The hair on the hair stands on end!

No way...don't fool around like that!

Best felt his hands shaking and looked down at Sironymus.

NMB!

Why did I find this thing?

…