Working as a police officer in Mexico

The Hague, Netherlands!

An office of the International Court of Justice.

December 2, 8 am.

The so-called "Victor Hearing" was held here.

The bureaucratic organization of several decades is more active than anyone else in this matter.

It has invested a lot of money in the UK.

The main reason is that Casare's quote is too ugly!

That's our queen, not a whore's son!

Many royalists went to the streets to protest and march, demanding severe punishment for Mexico!

Outrageous, we are the empire.

Although it is now an island, and the military bases outside have been almost withdrawn, we are still John! Wild! Bull!

The British outside the office were full of British people, holding flags and loudly protesting Victor's disrespect for the human rights of drug dealers.

British representative Lawrence got out of the car, followed by his secretary, and waved to the crowd.

"Mr. Lawrence! What is the proposal today? Will Britain send troops?" A female reporter rushed to the front against the surging waves, and the microphone was almost stuffed into the other person's face.

"We are very reluctant to see bloody conflicts, which is not in our interests. However, we will not allow a demon to reappear. During World War II, Churchill led us to resist the evil Third Reich. Now, we still have the ability and responsibility to solve the behavior that tramples on the bottom line of humanity. Please wait and see!"

"Thank you!"

Lawrence was still very polite, holding his suit, nodding to the reporters, and walked into the court surrounded by his secretary.

This time it is not open to the public...

It is an internal meeting.

When Lawrence walked in, the security guard at the door closed the door.

"Huh? Why did the security guard lock it?" The careful reporter couldn't help but whispered.

"Hey, what's the matter, isn't it just locked? Americans will call prostitutes in meetings." The colleague next to him said casually, lowering his head and looking at the material in the camera.

"Is that so..."

The reporter always felt that something was wrong.

There were already about a dozen people sitting in the third courtroom, led by Britain, flanked by Spain, and African countries such as Mali and Algeria, as well as countries devastated by drugs such as Colombia and Guatemala.

When Lawrence came in, everyone stood up.

The British smiled and nodded, very satisfied with their attitude.

Look, although the situation after World War II was the Soviet Union and the United States, Britain was still Britain, able to influence the world.

"Are all the people here?"

"All are here."

Lawrence nodded, "OK, then let's start today..."

Before he finished speaking, he suddenly heard the door slam open, and a dozen armed men rushed in from outside, one of whom even gave two security guards a submachine gun.

! ! ! !

Lawrence felt something was wrong and quickly got under the table.

The gunmen fired directly with their guns!

Thunderbolt thunderbolt... bang bang bang!

The bullets shattered the documents on the table, and the representatives who failed to dodge were shot into sieves, and blood mist filled the whole room.

An armed man wearing a skull mask kicked the table and dragged Lawrence out by his hair.

"Don't... me... me."

Have you ever seen an Uzi submachine gun pointed at the forehead at close range?

Haven't seen it?

Now you see it.

The armed man pointed the muzzle of the gun at Lawrence's head, pulled the trigger, and fired a burst of shots. Tsk tsk tsk...

His face was directly smashed!

"Did you take a picture?" The armed man asked hoarsely, turning his head.

A companion gestured OK with a camera.

"Send it to the Mexicans, 6 million US dollars will be transferred to the household registration in Southeast Asia."

The "bounty" issued by the Governor's Office in northern Mexico is 6 million, so naturally someone will take it. Isn't it the International Court of Justice in The Hague? If you pay, the peacekeeping forces will do it for you.

South Africa's EO company once had a conflict with the peacekeeping force in the war zone. In this world, there are many people who will do anything for money.

In Africa, 20 US dollars is not enough to kill a whole family?

The reporters outside had not dispersed yet, and the reporter who felt that the door was locked just now suddenly moved his ears, "Did you hear any sound?"

"Sound? What sound? Hoss, why are you so suspicious? This is the International Court of Justice in The Hague. Can you still kill people? Hahaha..."

Before the companion's laughter completely fell, he suddenly heard a violent collision, and then saw an armored off-road vehicle crashing out of it? ? ?

There was a motorcycle behind him.

The gang fired at the sky, and the gunshots immediately scared the surrounding protesters and reporters screaming and fleeing...

The reporter named Hoss ran fast, like a sprinter, and drilled to the side of the trash can next to him, lying on the ground, picked up the camera through the gap, and pressed the shutter!

Click!

The news on the front page is here!

"Breaking News! The Hague International Court of Justice was attacked! 》

This headline instantly appeared in many countries' top newspapers.

Spain, Britain, Germany...

Hoss, the intern, became famous overnight. In his photos, the "gangsters" wore skull masks and held Uzi submachine guns, looking very tough!

What's more unusual is that this kind of mask has become popular in many groups.

Well...

It's not very serious.

Casare was "shocked" when he heard about this, and wrote a letter of condolence to London overnight.

His vulgar words and dissolute behavior made him a loyal lackey of Victor.

But Mexico has not been "affected" by this incident yet, and they have bigger things to do.

Cleanup Plan 1.0!

The Northern State has started the killing mode!

Baja California Sur.

Kensel Mine.

There were originally about 4,000 drug dealers here. Because of the extremely harsh environment, at least more than half of them died of hunger and illness.

And today the other half...

were gathered.

The air was filled with a foul smell.

"Don't you clean it at all? It's really smelly!" Santos wore gloves, covered his nose, frowned, and his tone was full of disgust.

Look at his rank... Lieutenant!

This guy showed amazing courage and ability in the "Mexicali Confrontation", and with a backer behind him, it would be strange if he didn't get promoted.

It won't be long before he becomes a captain.

Now Santos's position is not in the 223rd Regiment of the National Guard, but in a newly established department, the "Drug Dealer Cleanup Department."

The director is a new nobleman named Heinrich Luipold!

Hearing Santos' words, the mine manager next to him shuddered, his pupils condensed, and whispered, "Do you want to clean them all!"

Santos looked at the drug dealers, his eyes exuding disgust and nausea!

"Just wash them if they are dirty." He said softly, looking at his childhood friend Camposter next to him. One person's success brings prosperity to the whole family. This guy was also transferred to the cleanup department.

The latter met Santos' eyes, nodded vigorously, trotted onto a water cannon truck, patted the door, waved his hand, and signaled to fire!

There was a skull painted on the back of the water cannon truck!

The Northern Army sitting inside responded, turned on the equipment, pointed the huge muzzle at the crowd, and pressed the button!

Swoosh!

A stream of water sprayed over.

It's just...

Why does this look wrong?

The water column rushed to the dozen drug dealers in front. They were blown away by the huge shock wave and lay on the ground screaming!

The skin was burning, and the whole face and body began to fester.

"Sulfuric acid! This is sulfuric acid!!" The experienced drug dealers shouted in fear. They also rushed to this kind of thing, soaking their opponents in sulfuric acid water and watching them howl.

But when the target suddenly became themselves, they were a little at a loss for a moment.

The drug dealers ran around in panic.

But the Northern Army had already set up machine guns.

"Ahhh! You devils, devils!!"

"I don't want to die... I'm seriously reformed. I'm a mining model. Please, let me go, let me go!"

But the Northern Army turned a deaf ear to it and felt sour!

"Run! These devils are going to kill us all! Run!" After someone shouted, thousands of people fled in all directions.

"Shoot!"

Bullets were fired and heavy machine guns roared.

The drug dealers who had no power to resist were beaten to death, and the ground was covered with blood. The blood and sulfuric acid mixed together, and there was a strange... smell.

Santos took a deep breath, his face showing ecstasy, "Sure enough, without drug dealers, the world tastes sweet."

The mine manager swallowed his saliva, and sweat broke out on his forehead.

He claimed that he was not a good person, but Santos was more cruel than him, no wonder he was called "the son of the devil!"

This is the name many people gave him, a kind of ridicule, but it is gradually becoming a label.

"Where is the next place?"

Campost looked at his notebook, "The drug dealer concentration camp in Ensenada City, there are 15,000 people!"

Santos pulled off his gloves, "What do you think is the best way to do it next?"

The dog-headed military advisor Campost's eyes flashed, "We can pour gasoline on them all, and then..."

"We can't let them die too easily!"

"Besides, if so many people are burned in one fire, Santos, you will definitely be the number one person in the Northern Army!"

Well...

Your name will also be on the wanted list.

But Santos obviously doesn't mind.

The general's order must be completed even if it costs his life!

"Just as you said." Santos narrowed his eyes, "I can't wait to be praised."

Santos is just a microcosm...

On the first day of the cleanup plan, a total of 130,000 drug dealers were killed, 50,000 were killed on the second day, and more than 180,000 were killed on the third day!

Miserable!

That scene...

Even some people in the Northern Army whispered a few words.

Not to mention the civilian population, but under the propaganda of Goebbels' "propaganda department", the cleanup plan was glorified as "the light of humanity".

If these drug dealers are not killed, there will never be a dawn in Mexico's war on drugs. Killing them is a warning to others, do you still dare to sell drugs?

The effect is obvious.

Facts have proved that the drug circulation rate in the north is close to 0!

On December 6, the Governor's Office of Mexico issued a "One-week summary report on the cleanup plan."

"The Northern Army has cleaned up 312,341 drug dealers, and plans to clean up 213,412 in the remaining week. Completely eliminate drug-related personnel in the northern states, and never tolerate them!"

Hearing Casare's words, many reporters' hands trembled.

310,000 people were killed in one week!

This...

The reporters could only express their "dissatisfaction" with the crackling sound of shutters.

"The cleanup plan will continue to evolve. We will carry out activities not limited to assassinations and other activities against overseas drug dealers. Don't worry, our intelligence agency likes to kill whole families. We will drown their children in the swimming pool, throw their parents into the stove, and put their mistresses to death." Tie a bomb." Casare raised his head, looked at the camera, and said with a smirk, "Don't worry, the world is so big, we will find you!"

He said and pointed at the camera wildly.

This unruly look made the Golden Triangle tycoons, Golden Triangle drug dens, African leaf dealers and many people engaged in this industry feel as if their hearts were being tightly pulled, and their faces were ugly!

"These people are crazy!"

If you're a warlord in Mexico, can't you run drugs together? How wonderful it would be for everyone to be happy together, you are noble, you are innocent, ah!

"Is there any problem now?" After Casare finished speaking, he looked at the reporter below and asked suddenly.

This confused the reporters, but what followed was ecstasy!

In the past, Casare would leave as soon as he said it, but now he still has time to ask questions, which is a surprise!

The next second, everyone raised their hands, stretching their hands very straight, just like "competing for beauty" when facing the teacher's inquiry at school.

Casare clicked on a woman who looked very attractive.

"Hello, sir, I am Madonna, a reporter from the French newspaper "Le Figaro". What I want to ask is that Mexico's cleanup plan has seriously affected the world structure. The United Nations Human Rights Council has designated this behavior as the highest level of red incident, more than 10 countries in Europe have announced the suspension of diplomatic relations with Mexico and imposed sanctions. What do you think? Thank you."

"Mexico does not need diplomatic partners who sympathize with drug traffickers. What we need are warriors who will not give up in the face of drugs together, not cowards who will only surrender. If the Human Rights Council feels that they are uncomfortable with our behavior, then so be it, alone. Regardless of adults or children, men, women or children, if you want 2,000 U.S. dollars per person and about 400,000 captives, a total of 800 million U.S. dollars, if you want it, go and receive it!”

Casare smiled and said, "They won't be reluctant to give up the money. Please convey this matter to them. We are willing to stop planning for this day."

Don't you like it?

Here you go, here you go.

It's all rubbish anyway.

This is an obvious conspiracy. Don’t you Europe and the United States claim to be symbols of human rights? Well, if you buy them, if you don’t buy them, then you are fake and you are deceiving yourself.

Once you buy it, you will have a headache.

"Next one." Casare pointed to a man wearing glasses.

"Britain and Spain propose to send joint forces to Mexico to maintain stability..."

Before he could finish speaking, Casare waved his hand impatiently, "Let them come! My bullets and my shotgun welcome them. I don't like braggarts. I hope they can come out and fight like men."

"Next one".

Here Casare is chatting with a group of "dogs", and in the office of the Governor's Palace.

Victor sat alone, unable to contain his smile.

He looked at the points on the Goldfinger panel.

"5.232 billion!!"

…