Working as a police officer in Mexico

"Killing me a civilian is like killing my parents!"

On TV, Victor's voice was deafening!

Chief Harris Office of the Mayor of Guadalajara.

Al Mencho held a basin in his hand and stuffed it into his mouth with a spoon. The green juice seeped out from the corners of his mouth, looking like a zombie in a horror movie.

In fact, this is mashed cactus food.

North Americans always eat very strange things.

Next to him stood the gunman, and across from the desk were four people kneeling.

One of them was beaten until he curled up like a maggot.

This is the mayor of Guadalaraja, Abufa Mahbub, and next to him are his wife and two young children.

Al Mencho took a sip of Pepsi-Cola, moved the pistol away from the table, took out the dollar bills underneath, wiped his mouth, and looked at the TV.

"This Victor is really acting like him." He suddenly laughed out loud.

The boy next to him also laughed awkwardly.

"Why are you laughing?" Al Mencho turned his head and asked.

The younger brother's expression suddenly stiffened, and there was panic in his eyes, "Boss...Boss..."

"Who are you to laugh at a Mexican governor? Get out!"

The younger brother shrank his head and ran out angrily.

Al Mencho is definitely mentally ill. Victor had someone call him "despicable" on TV, but he didn't get angry. He even thought that Victor had a temper and was more forthright than those hypocritical Mexican politicians!

Sometimes the younger brother always feels that the boss is interested in Victor's hook.

Don't talk about heroes cherishing heroes.

You're already selling drugs, and you're still a hero.

"Mr. Mayor, are you planning to leave Guadalajara? Your staff said you want to go north?" Al Mencho put his elbows on the table and asked with a smile.

Mayor Abufa Mahbub raised his head with difficulty and glanced at the staff member standing next to him. The latter looked worried and guilty, with his head lowered and at a loss.

He betrayed his friends of decades!

"Isn't it good in Guadalajara? Whatever Victor has, we have it here."

Perhaps knowing that he could not survive, Abufa Mahbub struggled to sit up straight, his eyes bloodshot, "Okay? There are addicts everywhere, drugs everywhere, and children without hope. What's good here?" "

"Fortunately, there are tons of drugs? Or are there unscrupulous drug dealers? Or are there bastards who sell human organs!"

"How can you compare with Victor? You can't even compare to his leg hair! You are a despicable drug dealer!"

Abufai Mahbub's voice gradually became louder.

"You have dyed this sky black! You have deprived Mexico of its future..."

boom!

Gunshot!

Abufa Mahbub clutched his chest and fell limply to the ground. His wife and children next to him rushed forward crying.

"You're right, but I don't like hearing it."

Al Mencho's face was gloomy, and the muzzle of the gun in his hand was still smoking.

He calls himself the "Mexican duo", and of course he was angry when someone said he was not as good as Victor. With a dark face, he turned his head sharply and looked at his staff, "What do you think!"

The latter swallowed. He had betrayed his best friend. What bottom line could he have? He glanced at the other party's gun muzzle and hurriedly raised his thumb, "Victor is not as good as you, sir!"

"When you become mayor, Guadalajara will definitely be better than Tijuana!"

After hearing this, El Menjo's expression softened slightly, and he pointed at Mayor Abufa Mahbub's widow, his eyes gleaming, "Deal with them!"

"You know how to kill, right?" he asked suddenly, but then shook his head, "You bureaucrats kill people much more ruthlessly than drug dealers."

"Be clean and don't affect my election."

When El Mencho walked out of the door, he glanced at the mayor's body.

What a bullshit mayor!

Those who disobey must be taught a lesson!

In Jalisco, he was the "Emperor". When he walked out of the door, he said to his confidants, "Those losers in Sinaloa are so useless, take our people away and teach the northerners a lesson! "

"Culiacan is not stable yet, let them be more chaotic!"

Um…

The last one who thought that northern soldiers could not fight was Guzman and the old-school drug lords. Now Juarez's Aguilar has died down, Gulf Group's Ambregue has disappeared briefly, and Guzman is "a guest in Jalisco" ".

The true face of drug dealers still depends on themselves!

He wants to make the name of Al Mencho the number one banner in resisting the "Northern Army" moving south!

"Brother, do we want to make a big one?" His second brother next to him said softly.

"What do you want to do?"

"Carry out a comprehensive assassination of all officials of the Northern Governor's Palace! From the grassroots to the top, as long as Tijuana's population is flowing, it is impossible to control the infiltration of our people!"

"They will be scared to death when the time comes."

That's what drug dealers do.

But it does work.

What is the concept of Tijuana’s millions of people?

For stowaways, refugees, American tourists, etc., Victor has issued a "Management Plan for Migrant Population". Any foreign population coming to Tijuana must declare it locally.

and get a piece of identification.

If you don't have this ID, then I'm sorry, just go have some tea.

But there are loopholes.

Many scalpers began to sell "certificates of identity".

The world is so big, there are always people who are not afraid of death. They would rather be beaten to death than die of poverty.

An ID card has been sold for 300 US dollars. For those whose identities are not suitable to be made public, do you want to buy one?

One for 300, ten for 3,000, a hundred for 30,000!

This money is enough for many people to seek death!

The real poor will fight for a dollar. In some places, life is more precious than anything else, and in some places, life is as cheap as grass.

Sometimes you think it is incredible, but this society protects you too well.

When Al Mencho heard his second brother's words, his eyes flashed, the corners of his mouth grinned, and he patted him on the shoulder, "Yes, you do it. If necessary, you can launch a terrorist attack to make everyone feel terrified!"

"Let the voice of dissatisfaction among the people in the north appear."

The calculation is good. It can be seen that the track is not pressed enough. Victor's caliber is a little thicker. Dissatisfaction? It can all be turned into praise!

"You are responsible for this matter. Remember, the scene must be grand!!"

The second brother nodded happily. He had already thought about it in his head. Then... kidnap a university!

Kidnap all the students inside, and Victor will definitely sit down to negotiate!

"Victor! The new generation of Jalisco is here!"

...

"Shoot!"

In an open space in the suburbs of Tijuana, gunshots suddenly rang out with the order of a lieutenant.

The 30 drug dealers kneeling on the ground were all shot in the back of the head, and fell to the ground twitching, with brains and blood splattering.

"Next batch! The 3rd Squadron of New Recruits!" the lieutenant shouted.

The new recruits who had been prepared for a long time took a deep breath and walked to the execution ground, and another batch of drug dealers were dragged up.

"Don't kill me! Don't kill me! I have parents and children to take care of!" A middle-aged drug dealer cried, "Are we wrong? I have no money, my children need to go to school, my family needs to recover, I sell drugs to make a living..."

But no one listened to this excuse. Instead, because of his "non-cooperation", two veterans smashed his knees with a hammer!

It's just that he talked too much.

"Ready! Fire!"

Bang bang bang!

The middle-aged drug lord fell to the ground, with a face full of regret and despair.

There are too many drug dealers caught in Culiacan.

More than 2,000!

They were separated, and some were taken to Tijuana for the new recruits to practice. This is also an assessment item. If you don't even dare to kill people, why does Victor keep you?

The total score of each performance determines which unit the new recruit will be assigned to after three months.

In order to meet the needs of fresh blood, Victor also made new provisions for the "Military Service Law".

After joining the Northern Forces, the minimum service is five years!

If it is a technical soldier, the minimum is eight years, and then a professional contract is signed.

Now because of "special reasons", the promotion of military ranks is very chaotic. When the troops are completely stable, there will be a perfect order.

Within two years, it is a private first class, after two years, a private first class, a corporal for more than five years, a sergeant for eight years, and a sergeant for more than eight years.

If it exceeds 12 years, it is a sergeant major. When you retire at the age of retirement, you can apply for retirement and enjoy the welfare benefits of regimental cadres. At this time, Victor's insurance agency will also give a one-time subsidy of N+1 working time.

This 1 is 1 year, not a month.

The purpose is to encourage veterans to stay in the army. The longer you stay, the more money you make.

And officers must be trained in professional military academies before they can serve, and those who have made meritorious performance can be directly promoted.

The Joint Operations Command and the Northern Governor's Office have also formulated salary standards.

No matter what rank, 13 salaries per year.

A private first class gets $320 per month, a private first class gets $620, a corporal gets $1,250, a sergeant gets $2,100, and a staff sergeant gets $3,300.

A sergeant major gets $5,000!

This is just the basic salary. If you are a squad leader or deputy squad leader in the army, you will get a subsidy, and you will also get a high salary during wartime.

A corporal squad leader can get about $19,000 a year in wartime.

This welfare is not much different from the US military of the same era.

Victor really spent a lot of money to build the army. His budget in 1990 was $1.5 billion!

Just to support these 100,000 or so soldiers.

No money is needed for weapons or anything like that. If you count all that, you can't even support the army even if you sell Victor.

It is a fact that soldiers eat food. Victor cannot always rely on "anti-drug beliefs" and "speech" to maintain the army. Only a perfect system can have good competition and growth. He does not want to be a grass-roots king.

In World War II, the Bavarian boy soldiers fought to the death. Are they fanatical enough?

See if he dares not to pay salaries.

Then, let you taste the night of Berlin!

The next step is to adjust the salaries of civil servants, and then reform the points that ordinary people care about.

Do you think it is easy to sit in this position?

It is easy to conquer a country, but it is difficult to defend it.

Victor wants to develop Mexico well, and there are still many things to do.

On a hillside of the execution ground.

This place has been dug into a flat land. Victor sat quietly, basking in the sunshine of Tijuana, and there was coffee on the table next to him.

Brazilian coffee.

Sent by the Brazilian Office in Tijuana.

It tastes good.

In this hillside, you can even see the beach in the distance and the circling seagulls. In fact, Tijuana is really beautiful.

Nurnisha Kallis next to her was a little fidgety. As the head of the International Narcotics Control Board Secretariat, she had visited many countries to investigate the punishment of drug dealers.

She had seen people whipped, paraded, and even some countries had given up struggling and let drug dealers fend for themselves.

But this was the first time she had seen a new recruit being pulled out to train his courage.

"The other two departments' leaders didn't agree, but they hope to meet you in Vienna, Austria, and discuss with you in person about the opinions on the governance of drug dealers." Nurnisha Kallis said.

They didn't agree because they were afraid that she, a woman, would fish, and they could talk privately when they met.

Airdrops from all over the country, available!

These corrupt officials like to meet and talk, they don't believe in any communication tools.

But if you're not corrupt, how can Victor be promoted?

He smiled, understood the subtext, and nodded, "Of course, I am happy to discuss and learn with the seniors on the anti-drug line."

"Then let's go tomorrow?"

"No problem." Victor nodded, and suddenly his mind was pulled and he wanted to say, "Can I visit the former residence of the mustache?"

But he shut his mouth immediately.

What a joke!

Since World War II, no politician from any country has dared to visit here, right? Do you miss them?

You have ulterior motives!

You say, do you want to summon the soul of that evil empire?

If Victor goes there, he will be sprayed to death with spit.

Political acumen is also very important...

In such serious historical matters, there must be no ambiguity.

But it's funny to say that an Austrian went to Germany and fought a world war, um...quite funny.

"General, the mission is completed, a total of 621 drug dealers were killed!" The lieutenant in charge of the execution ground ran to the hillside and saluted.

"Send the body to the medical school. Even if he dies, he must contribute to Mexico and the human cause."

"Yes!"

Victor stood up, drank the last bit of coffee, and said to Nurnisha Calis, "Let's go, let's go back."

The group got into the car and drove away under the protection of bodyguards.

"Okay, pack up!" Jason Bourne, who was in charge of security, shouted with a walkie-talkie, and saw a sniper in a ghillie suit crawling out of the haystack about 20 meters away from the hillside just now.

He held a Barrett in his hand!

This was not the only one, and people could be vaguely seen gathering in other places.

Victor was very afraid of death.

Of course, you have to bring more people when you go out.

There was a company on this mountain, and there were also prepared ambulances and a series of logistical support.

Now you know why many emperors didn't like to go to the countryside in the past.

It's a waste of money and labor!

At this time, in the car, the chief secretary Miss Christa Schroeder asked, "Sir, what should we prepare for Vienna?"

"Prepare more US dollars and British pounds, not rubles, they don't like them."

"Oh, by the way, bring a small part of the gold jewelry seized from Culiacan."

"They will like the gifts from Mexico!"