Chapter 134 Mr. Victor likes the camera feel.
After visiting the school, Victor finally went to see the militia self-defense team in the village of San Miguel.
All of them are in their prime, ranging in age from 19 to 25 years old.
There were about 40 people.
The AK47 issued by the government is in their hands. This thing does not require much skill at all. Just pull the trigger. There are no grenades, landmines or body armor.
One word: do it!
The drug dealers who come to this kind of village cannot be large-scale. A dozen or twenty people are not allowed to be held down and beaten?
Never underestimate the bloody nature of Mexican villagers.
In 2012, a small leader of the "Knights Templar" took 30 drug dealers to collect "plantation fees" and then clashed with local villagers.
The villagers took out RPGs and blew up the pickup trucks they brought with them. They also used machine guns to suppress the drug dealers. This video became very popular on the Internet.
Most importantly, they executed the "Knights Templar" drug dealers, beheading them one by one!
Of course the drug dealers would not give up, so they attacked the village. However, the village chief had already invited other surrounding villages to come, and an intense "war" broke out.
The fight lasted for three days, and the police didn’t even come to stop the fight.
About 70 drug dealers and more than 20 villagers died.
This is also a result of the "Mexican Militia Self-Defense" system. In this country, even hunting dogs have become as brave as lions.
Being timid will only bring death closer to you.
The Mexicali City Hall sent people over to train them three weeks in advance, so they still had basic tactics, at least they knew how to do crossfire.
These militiamen will become excellent soldiers if they are trained in the future.
It is considered an early investment.
However, in order to prevent some vicious cases or reduce accidents, guns are not allowed to be carried by private persons. They are all responsible for the village chief, the first person in charge of the village. They are equipped with 2,000 rounds of ammunition a month, and 3,500 rounds in remote areas. However, There will be a dedicated person to review every month.
If one is missing, you have to tell where it went.
Victor's current policy is: "The circulation of guns is not controlled, but bullets must be controlled."
Anyone who illegally possesses guns and ammunition will be jailed.
It is precisely because of this high-pressure situation that the society in Baja California can gradually become peaceful and stable.
“Yes, it’s great to have this technique and tactics in a short time, but you still need to train well. After a while, Baja California will recruit police on a large scale, and you will be selected first. Don’t do it then. It’s an embarrassment to the village,” Victor said, clapping and laughing.
The eyes of these "militiamen" lit up when they heard this.
Joining the police force now means a high salary, and at least you don't have to go hungry every day.
Mexican police welfare benefits After Carlos Salinas adopted the IMF’s low-pay civil servant system, all welfare subsidies, housing and education subsidies were gone, and bullets, weapons, and body armor had to be purchased by themselves. .
This is also one of the reasons why police weapon models vary from state to state.
But Baja California is completely different under the governance of Victor and Alejandro. The police have become highly paid, and the families of the deceased military police can receive a monthly pension of 1,800 pesos, which is equivalent to 800 pesos. US dollars.
During Calderon's anti-drug campaign in 2006, he gave 10,000 pesos per month to the families of the deceased military police officers, equivalent to 483 US dollars.
One in 1990 and one in 2006, the exchange rates are different.
The peso is still very durable at this time.
One of the reasons why Victor wanted to kill Carlos was that this guy directly signed the North American Free Trade Agreement, which was humiliating and humiliating to the country, giving Mexico no chance to stand up.
The people have been completely reduced to tools of production, and similarly, compradors are prevalent and the ugliness of the economic boom is that the people at the bottom are short of food and clothing.
Many people believe that it was the signing of the North American Free Trade Agreement that led to the increasing number of drug traffickers after 1990.
Of course this is something for later...
There are still two years...
Victor will not agree to this bullshit by then!
“When I go back, I will discuss with Mr. Alejandro to provide certain support to rural schools across the state and provide scholarships to outstanding students to prevent them from going to school because their families are poor.”
"We must also let all children understand that knowledge can change their destiny!"
"Reading is useful!"
The village chief's eyes flashed upon hearing this, and he grabbed Victor's hand, "Mr. , We are so miserable!"
Victor patted him on the shoulder and said softly, "Don't worry, the times will be different when I come."
Click!
The reporter who was carrying him rushed to take pictures of this scene.
The sun behind him shines on Mr. Victor. The elderly village chief has a hunched back. The mud house behind him tells how barren this place is.
I’ve already thought of a name.
"Mr. Victor - the hope of the Mexicans!"
Victor also glanced at the camera.
There is no camera...
I can’t seem to lift my spirits by talking.
Uncle Victor is born with a sense of camera.
……
Quintero had a long dream.
He dreamed that...
He was arrested.
Hahaha, how is that possible?
Who dares to arrest themselves in Mexico now!
I am following Carlos, even the DEA is looking for me all over the world, but besides crying, what else can I do?
Boom~
Suddenly I heard a little sound in my ear, like tapping something. The sound gradually became louder and louder, as if a hand grabbed his neck and pulled him up. .
"Ouch, ha..."
Quintero opened his eyes suddenly, panting heavily, sweat dripping from his forehead, his pupils were a little panicked, and he moved subconsciously He raised his hand, and the pain from above spread to his brain instantly.
He turned his head and saw that his left hand was... nailed to the wooden board.
And he was suddenly nailed to the cross.
“Ahhhh!!!”
The heartbreaking pain made him cry out loudly.
"Sir, stop shouting. No one will answer you here, even if you shout till your throat is broken." A figure emerged from the darkness, wearing a mask and a white coat, "Welcome to Mexico International News Department, oh no, welcome to Mr. Victor’s hell, you can call me B2, my nickname.”
After he finished speaking, the surrounding lights lit up, this is a room that looks like. It's an ordinary factory building.
"I'm sorry, time is too tight. We can't restore it one to one. Do you think the environment here is familiar?" Quintero's mouth was trembling. It hurt. He saw the picture hanging directly opposite. In the photo, he suddenly screamed crazily and struggled.
"It seems you know him, but I still have to introduce him to you." B2 smiled and pointed at the photo, "Mr. Enrique Camarena, the famous anti-drug hero , also our idol, you tortured him and his colleagues for nearly an hour in a similar farm."
"Forensic doctors were at him. A total of 179 wounds were found on your body. Don't worry, we will treat you with one more wound."
B2 pointed to a box piled next to him, "There are a total of 78 tubes of epinephrine and 2000mm of A in it. The blood type is the same as your blood type. If it is not enough, you will have to bite the bullet.”
"Now let's take the first step..."
B2 smiled and picked up the scalpel, "cut off your ears."
The look of Enrique Camarena's photo on the wall Staring at Quintero, looking at B2 getting closer and closer, he couldn't help shouting.
“Don’t come over here…don’t come over here!”
How can a drug dealer’s psychological defense be so strong?
Their bones...
have long been rotten by drugs!
Quintero himself also smoked. For him, it was a sign of "enjoying life."
B2 cut off his ear with one knife.
Quintero screamed, his whole body shaking with pain.
…
At this time, in the darkroom nearby, you can clearly see everything happening inside, but the people inside cannot see them.
Seeing this scene, Casare subconsciously touched his ears, which felt a little chilly, and glanced at the boss from the corner of his eye.
Victor was very calm, still holding a cigarette in his hand.
I have been under a lot of pressure recently and have become more addicted to smoking.
"Boss, will you kill him?" Casare hesitated and said, "If the DEA receives the body, its value will be greatly reduced."
"Death is not easy, people can It can withstand 18 atmospheric pressures and a high temperature of 104 degrees Celsius for 26 minutes. The minimum body temperature limit is about 14.2 degrees Celsius. If you add some adrenaline, as long as you don't lose too much blood, do you want to die? "Victor smiled.
Looked left and right, and threw the cigarette butt into the trash can.
There is also written on the wall: littering, fine of five yuan.
Look how much Uncle Victor follows the rules.
"Fewer spare parts, it won't get in the way. Let's get some secrets out of him first."
CIA's methods are even more "rude" than these.
Let's put it this way...
When some of the CIA's actions are taken into account in their country, many people think they should be shot. It is simply unconscionable.
No one in intelligence work has clean hands.
"Let Lyanna come and see his lover later and let them have a private chat." Victor said suddenly.
Casare knows so much about the boss.
When the two men meet, Quintero is not allowed to kill him, even physically. Will the reward be waived by then?
Leanna's crimes are too numerous to describe. She used her identity as a reporter to cover for Quintero several times, and even used a reporter's vehicle to help the Guadalajara cartel transport drugs.
Victor only talks to two kinds of people, those who have never sold drugs, and those who are pleasing to the eye.
I'm sorry Lyanna was so unpleasant to him.
Informant?
This girl is only worth a Quintero, and has no use value anymore.
Casare nodded, looked at Quintero inside, and suddenly felt a little pity for him. You said it would be better if you died early. What kind of prison did you escape from? If you are extradited by the Yankees, you can only sit for a few days. Ten years in prison.
Okay now…
My body is all broken.
Leave professional matters to the professional "Mexico International News Department". He is now very good-tempered and cultivates his moral character.
When I walked out of the interrogation room, I saw the secretary trotting over in a hurry, "Boss, Mr. Cuaucomote and the others have arrived in Mexicali."
"Let's go and meet. ”
Victor has already known Cuauquemot’s father from a lot of information, the president “LS Ronaldo Cardenas” who is remembered by the Mexicans.
That's how you evaluate him.
"The hunk in the Latin American world, the brightest eagle in Mexico, a world asset!"
If he is involved with him, Victor will not have to worry about Mexican political problems, and he will not have to worry about it at all. Worry about the villain behind it.
......
Kwaukmot looked at the lively streets outside, a little lost in thought.
He was an activist, so he took a leave of absence and came to Baja California with his family under the protection of several agents. The other party handed them over to police officers waiting at the border and left.
Accompanied by a police sergeant named: Gian Carlos.
This guy captured Zambada alive and was brave in battle, so he was directly promoted as an exception, which is equivalent to being a "model".
"What is that?" Suddenly, Kwaukemot's wife pointed to a platform not far away and asked.
"That's the gallows, ma'am."
Giancarlos glanced at Bare Teeth.
“A drug dealer will be hanged every day!”
As soon as he finished speaking, he heard the sound of a gong, and then people around him gathered to watch the fun.
A drug dealer wearing a hood was pulled to the gallows by the police.
"Hang him! Hang him!"
The people below shouted.
The drug dealer was trembling.
Let the police put a cap on his head and pull the pole.
The lower board was opened, and the whole person was hanging directly on it. The drug dealer struggled hard, but he was like a fish on a chopping board...
It looked very funny.
All the people cheered and shouted, kill the drug dealers!
“Welcome to the anti-drug city: Mexicali!”
……
(End of Chapter)