Chapter 150 The dog-headed strategist—Guzman!
"Let me go! Let me go! I can give you a lot of money, I can give you whatever you want."
Carlos sat on the ground waving his hands and shouted loudly .
Harris looked at him condescendingly, and suddenly tugged on his clothes angrily.
“What we want is never money, what we want is to eradicate drug dealers. Do you remember what happened in the GAFE special forces in 1987?”
Carlos looked at him.
Harris stared at him, seeing the confused look on his face, he was furious, "You asked my captain to transport drugs to the US-Mexico border for you, but we refused, what did you do to us? "
"You betrayed all the information about our family to drug dealers. My wife, my children, my parents, and my brother were all beaten to death by drug dealers!"
< br>"You betrayed us! When you were collaborating with the drug dealers, did you ever think about letting us go?"
Harris pushed him away with a cold tone, "Traitors should be eliminated!! ”
The two police officers behind him came up and put a plastic bag around his neck, and then pulled hard, but Carlos still wanted to struggle.
This hand was pierced by a dagger!
A protective umbrella for drug dealers!
This is how it should be treated.
Bullets are the most polite death penalty.
Carlos's struggle gradually weakened, and in the end, he fell limply to the ground.
"Boss, there are troops coming!" The anxious voice of the peripheral security personnel sounded in the communication tool.
Harris took a deep look at Carlos on the ground, took out his gun and fired three more shots at the body, two in the head, "Retreat!"
The rain was getting heavier. , knocking on the ground and making a "dong-dong-dong" sound, which was very confusing.
After they ran for about ten minutes, Valdez received the news and hurriedly arrived with the operations department of the intelligence agency.
Seeing the corpses on the ground, his legs felt a little weak.
"Quick! Find Mr. Carlos!" Valdez's voice was broken, and the color on his face disappeared.
The agents brought here are busy looking for him.
"Head! Head! Here."
Valdez jumped up and rushed over to the agent who was shouting. He saw the agent squatting and lying alone. On the ground.
"It's Mr. Carlos."
When Valdez saw Carlos with a plastic bag on his head, he howled, "Send him to the hospital quickly!"
1990 June 14th, 3 a.m.!
Mexico City was suddenly under martial law.
And half an hour later, a piece of news suddenly spread throughout Mexico through the media.
Carlos Salinas!
Death!
This news swept the country instantly. Many people held meetings all night and even had no sleep. As for why the TV said there was no death, who cares?
It doesn’t matter what the fuck, everyone is dead.
"Quick! Go to San Luis Potosi to find Cuauquemot to take charge of the situation!"
…
Quaukmote was yawning when he was woken up in the motel. When his secretary said that Carlos was dead, his jaw almost dislocated.
"What did you say? Carlos is dead?"
The secretary looked excited, "Yes! He is dead."
"How did he die?" Cuauk Mort frowned.
"The people we stationed at the official residence said that a group of unidentified armed men broke into the official residence last night and...beat him to death."
Isn't this too...nonsensical?
The protection ability of the Presidential Guard is too poor.
But then I thought about it, drug dealers can place a few people in the guard, and it is natural for them to be killed if they are weak in combat ability.
Unknown armed men?
Drug dealer?
Victor?
Victor!
Kwaukmot's intuition told him that it was definitely him. Just when he was about to call to inquire, he heard a lot of noise outside.
“What’s going on?”
"Sir, there are a lot of people downstairs." The bodyguard at the door called.
Kwaukmot opened the window and saw hundreds of people standing densely packed together at some unknown time, with more and more people approaching, holding banners in their hands.
It was too dark to see clearly.
But their voices were cheering, very chaotic, but slowly they became united, "Mr. Cuauquemot, please go to Mexico City!"
"Quauquemot Sir, please go to Mexico City!”
…
It’s like someone is rendering it below.
But so many people were calling his name, which made Quaukmot a little excited, and his heart was filled with passion.
"Sir, Mr. Honatan Aragon's phone number." The secretary handed over the phone and said softly.
Before Kwaukmot picked up the phone, he heard Honatan on the opposite side speak first, "Congratulations, man!"
"God is obviously not on the side of Carlos."
"You have won your Mexico!" Cuauquemot raised his eyebrows, "Thank you, but this is not my Mexico alone. It belongs to all the people, and since Mr. Carlos passed away, I am not the successor. We must respect the constitution and let the election Come and talk."
Honatan Aragon on the opposite side was quiet for a moment, then smiled and responded after a few seconds, "Yes, Mexico belongs to all Mexicans, and we respect the Constitution. ."
"Some of my friends and I would like to meet you."
"They are happy to provide you with some necessary help."
Of course he knows who the friend he mentioned is Kwaukemot. He is nothing more than a representative of some consortia or some foreign groups. Kwaukemot Although he hates these people, he knows better that Mexico cannot leave them now.
They don't care who becomes the president, as long as their interests are guaranteed. If they don't understand current affairs, then the achievements will be taken away by others.
Sometimes, compromise is also an art.
“It’s my great honor. Let’s meet when I get to Mexico.”
Honatan Aragon breathed a sigh of relief, as long as he cooperated, his tone was much more relaxed, "Then I wish you in advance, the National Palace of Mexico welcomes you to stay!"
After hanging up the phone, Kwawu Kermot's originally surging mood suddenly dimmed.
“A new struggle begins!”
……
Sinaloa Culiacan!
In Guzman's mansion.
Aguilar from Juarez and Abrego from Gulf Group, the three giants sat quietly, smoking cigarettes non-stop.
“Where is the Michoacan family?” Aguilar raised his head and asked.
"They are at war with a group of new forces called Jalisco New Generation, and they have no time to attend this meeting." Guzman said lightly, looking at Abrego next to him, "It is said that their leader is called El Mencho!"
Abrego looked gloomy. Although "El Chapo" did not say any insulting words, his dignity seemed to have been provoked, "I will solve it myself. Get rid of this traitor!”
Guzman glanced at him, "How long do you think we can continue to fight among ourselves?"
"? What do you mean?"
"Carlos is dead. If there is no accident next time, , the one who will come to power will be Kwaukemot, who will definitely have zero tolerance for the drug trafficking industry, which may be a huge challenge for our business."
"If he gives Victor more. Support, our living space will gradually be compressed, and by then, not to mention the money, people will die!"
"Mexico cannot live without drugs," the Gulf Group spokesman said in a heavy voice. explain.
"But it's a challenge, isn't it? Baja California...is gone!"
Aguilar and Abrego immediately fell silent when they heard this.
“What do you mean?”
“Since we can’t fight, then surrender.” Guzman said.
“???Are you kidding!” Abrego, who had a slightly grumpy temper, stood up immediately, “Surrender, there is no surrender in my dictionary!”
"You can add it to your dictionary."
Guzman looked at him, "Listen calmly to what I have to say."
Abrego glanced at Aguilar, " Do you Juarez want to surrender?"
"Listen to him and continue."
After all, he was a security department commander, Aguilar crossed his legs. Said calmly.
"We have requirements for surrendering. We are allowed to sell drugs and retain our own army, but we can withdraw profits from them and hand them over to the national treasury to improve people's livelihood. We can also maintain local security and promise that they will not have armed conflicts."
“And, we accept the arrangement of the local city hall.”
“Just like Pablo.”
Pablo Escobar of Colombia When you surrender, you have requirements. You are not allowed to destroy your own business, you are allowed to live in a prison you built, and you are not allowed to hinder your normal freedom.
In order to make this guy stop, the Colombian government at the time fully agreed.
Why don't you just change your place and be the uncle?
"Would Kwaukmot and Victor agree?" Abrego expressed doubts, especially the latter, chasing them to fight.
Hit the shit out.
“We can offer a price that the government cannot refuse, Victor? He is just a director!”
“An ordinary director with some weapons and soldiers!”
"After the surrender, we can also use the name of the government to recruit armed personnel. If Victor attacks us again, it will be a civil war!"
"He will become the target of everyone's crusade!"< br>
I have to say that Guzman is one of the few leaders of the drug cartel who has no brains. Everyone who opposes him has played to death. He is very sinister.
If he can't beat him, he will think of dirty tricks.
“Many high-level officials in Mexico have never thought about real drug control. Maybe they just want us to be quiet and disturb them. As long as we learn to shut up first, they will learn to compromise!”
< br>
Aguilar and Abrego looked at each other.
The dog-headed military advisor, what a wonderful statement!
“I will arrange for people to get in touch with people who can talk to them first.”
“Who?”
“For example: the Mexican chaebols!”
……
(End of this chapter)