Chapter 159 says! Say thank you!
Victor was still sitting in the conference room smoking a cigarette.
Half a root cannot be wasted.
As soon as he stuffed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and was about to get up, Jason Bourne ran in with a serious look on his face.
“Boss!”
Victor hadn't seen this expression on his face for a long time.
“What’s wrong?”
“Informants from Mexico’s International Information Department said that Juarez, Gulf Group, and Sinaloa are planning to merge!”
Victor Busily taking the document from his hand, Jason Bourne continued, "Moreover, I also heard that they plan to unite with Colombian drug lords to form a new organization."
"They plan to Hug together to keep warm.”
"According to the information we received, we did find that Aguilar left Mexico for a while, but we are still investigating exactly where he went."
Victor nodded, it would be strange that the Mexican drug cartel did not unite. , to put it bluntly, one on one, which organization can fight Victor now!
Kick the shit right out of your ass and stuff it into your mouth.
If you can't beat them, just shake them. Isn't this the way it has been since ancient times?
However, the three giants merged and formed an alliance with the Colombians. This courage and courage indeed made Victor feel that Guzman and others were worthy of being drug lords.
How could someone be a fool to step from a small mountain village in Sinaloa to become a world-famous drug lord?
"Where is Ethan Hunt?"
Jason Bourne looked strange, "He took an annual leave to travel."
"Why travel? , come back and work overtime!”
“Ask him to take people to Colombia to establish the Mexican International News Department. I want to know what underwear Pablo is wearing today. Bring more people and don’t starve him.”< br>
Victor now has enough manpower. When he came back, he directly helped the Mexican International News Department from a "shabby small department" of 40 people to a "big group" of 400 people. He also continued to inject 30 million US dollars and equipped it with a series of military equipment.
The reference template is: CIA, which is more professional.
When the time comes to develop "peripheral personnel", maybe we will really show it to the CIA. Overseas intelligence agencies will be shocked!
The remaining 1,000 people were recruited for the "logistics department", including ground support, ordnance, tanks, vehicles, aircraft, and ship (ship) boat maintenance personnel.
A pilot team of 15 people was also secretly formed.
So many people spent nearly 600 million points, mainly technicians, those engaged in intelligence, maintenance, and airplane piloting. Which one is cheaper?
Especially for flying airplanes, the cost of training a basically qualified fighter pilot by the US military ranges from US$5.6 million for F-16 to US$10.9 million for F-22; the cost of training bomber pilots is also very high, Ranging from $7.3 million for the B-1 to $9.7 million for the B-52, command, control, intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance operations pilots such as the RC-135 cost approximately $5.5 million per pilot to train.
Even if the panda falls, pilots are precious assets and rarely circulate in the market. And even if they don’t fly military aviation, they can still fly civil aviation. Who will serve in the Mexican police department?
The plate is still not big enough!
Victor still has some spots, so don’t worry about it for now.
Can’t afford it!
"Report this matter to the DEA!" Victor thought for a moment, but still planned to drag the giant into the water. His intuition told him that this battle might not be easy!
Although there are several countries mixed between Mexico and Colombia, what if the military leaders in these countries are dragged away by drug traffickers?
“Let the financial department discuss it again, improve the welfare benefits of the police, and recruit all 15,000 National Guard personnel. If that doesn’t work, we can go outside and post recruitment notices at the military base. It must be in September. The bottom is full."
"Boss, I think we can ask Best to go to Vietnam to find people. There seems to be a war there." Jason Bourne suggested.
Victor squinted his eyes and looked into the distance. He said nothing. After thinking for a moment, he shook his head, "Let's talk about it later."
Jason Bourne responded, and after coming out of the conference room, He walked to the phone hanging at the corner, threw a coin in, pressed the number, and after two rings, the phone was picked up.
"Hello~" Ethan Hunter's relaxed voice sounded.
As Jason Bourne listened to the sound of waves and the laughter of women from the opposite side, the corners of his eyes twitched, MD, I, the person in charge, am working overtime, but you are having a relaxing time.
“It’s me, Jason, where are you?”
"Oh~ I'm in Lake Tahoe, Nevada, oh, damn! Honey, can you put some clothes on, OMG, your butt is so perky."
Jason Bourne He was furious, "CNMD! Ethan Hunter, the boss asked you to come back and work overtime!"
"Are you kidding? I asked for annual leave, and there are still 10 days left." Ethan Hunter, who was opposite Hunter was stunned and said quickly.
"Annual leave can be cancelled!"
"If you don't come back, I will throw you to Siberia." Jason Bourne's voice was filled with the pleasure of revenge, "You don't Do you want to grow potatoes in the ice and snow? ”
Ethan Hunter wailed, "You are squeezing your employees."
"Yes! Man, please come back and report at six o'clock tomorrow night, otherwise your performance award this year will be gone!" said After that, he hung up.
Listening to the empty tone on the phone, Ethan Hunter cursed.
A girl came up to him and directly...covered his face, "Honey, whose phone number is it?"
Ethan Hunter almost suffocated, "An old man Virgin!”
The bikini girl was startled and smiled happily.
…
It’s late at night.
Tijuana becomes lively again at night.
Although the previous "war on drugs" made nightlife sluggish for two or three days, it soon regained its popularity.
City Hall can't maintain martial law forever, and it won't raise taxes.
In the 13th block in the northwest corner of the city, there is a complex population. On average, a homicide occurs every 20 hours, a robbery every 17 hours, and a theft every 27 minutes.
A lot of garbage gathers here. Of course, not everyone is garbage.
There are also people who work hard to live.
Bengbengbeng…
The sound of the basketball hitting the ground was very clear, and I saw a dozen black people playing basketball in an open-air basketball court. There were dozens of spectators sitting around, including some little girls? A black man dunked and his whole body was hanging on it, but the ball bounced out and didn't go in at all. The people next to him booed and laughed.
The black man looked embarrassed and waved towards his teammates.
At this time, the basketball rolled to the side of a trash can. A thin old woman was digging through the trash can, and behind her stood a little boy, skinny, holding a Woven bag, short stature.
"Hey! Throw the basketball over here." The black man who dunked shouted twice, and the little boy responded timidly. He grabbed the basketball and threw it hard, but he didn't have enough strength to throw it too far. .
"Trash!" the black man who dunked cursed, walked over to pick up the basketball, and frowned at the little boy in front of him. Listening to the laughter of the audience next to him, he didn't know which one was wrong, so he just picked up the basketball. Just smashed it over.
peng!
The little boy was knocked directly to the ground. The old woman who was picking up garbage hurriedly got up when she heard the noise, turned around and quickly helped her grandson.
Black people’s brains…you can’t know what they’re thinking!
"Grandma!" The little boy cried and grabbed the old woman's arm, huddled in fear and trembling.
"Hush! James, you are still bullying a child." Someone next to him shouted.
“No!”
The dunking black man glared at the person who spoke, walked over to pick up the basketball, and happened to see the banknotes exposed from the old woman’s pocket. His eyes lit up and he picked up the basketball. Just grab it!
"This...this is my money, my money!" The old woman stretched out her hand in panic, but when the black man raised it, he couldn't get it at all.
"Please give it back to me. I want to buy medicine for my grandson! Please."
The old woman cried and even knelt on the ground begging him not to play tricks on the poor man. However, this behavior did not arouse the sympathy of the other party at all, but instead aroused ridicule from the surrounding people.
“Knock a few more, hahaha, knock a few more!” The black man smiled.
“Don’t bully my grandma!” The little boy’s eyes were red, and he didn’t know where he got the strength to rush forward, hug the black man’s thigh, and bite him!
The other party screamed in pain and slapped him to the ground. He opened his trouser legs and saw two teeth marks on them. He went up angrily and kicked him. When the old woman saw this, she hugged him hurriedly. child.
I kicked the opponent in the back with one kick, and he almost couldn't breathe.
The black man was still angry and kicked him hard and cursed.
Someone next to him saw something was wrong and shouted, "James, stop fighting, are you going to beat her to death?" He came up and grabbed him.
"I'm going to beat him to death. Don't hold me back or bite me. Do you know who I am? You bastard, do you know who I hang out with?"
"At 12 "I'm not responsible for killing people in the neighborhood!"
"Grandma! Grandma!" the little boy cried while lying on the old woman.
This sound... is uncomfortable to hear.
Squeak~
Suddenly, there was the sound of a tire braking on the ground. Looking up, they saw a police van parked outside the basketball court, and a man got out of the car.
"The police are here. Come on, James." His companion pulled him down.
“What are you afraid of? The police have nothing to be afraid of.”
"You idiot, the police are not scary, Victor is scary!"
Hearing this name, James shrank his head and was about to leave when Sweet, who was patrolling here, shouted, "Stop! ”
But the black people who saw something was wrong didn’t listen at all.
beng!
A gunshot rang out, and James fell to the ground holding his legs, wailing and rolling over. The others were frightened and stopped quickly.
"None of you can outrun my bullets." Sweet grinned, glanced at the old woman in the distance, and said to the police officer, "Go and see."
"James. Raymond, nicknamed Pfister Car, was a street gangster in the 12th block. He had 7 robberies, 17 fights, and 2 rapes, and he also briefly joined a drug cartel." Piette held it in his hand. Keep a roster with recent criminal records and photos on it.
"You have committed so many things and you can still come out? Who is standing behind you?" Sweet asked with a frown.
But James was just patronizing and howling.
"Boss... I can't survive. He was kicked to death." The police officer over there who observed the old woman's condition shouted.
Sweet immediately became angry.
"Shotgun!"
The police officer behind him handed over a Winchester Defender 1300 shotgun. Sweet pulled the bolt and pointed it at James who fell to the ground. The head is a shot!
If you still don’t feel relieved, pull again and hit again!
This head is completely destroyed...
"TMD, who did James hang out with!" Sweet asked loudly to a black woman standing next to him. The woman had a nose ring and a tattoo on her face, which read: Aldiabloconmigo! (X Me ! )
The black woman was so frightened that her legs were shaking and she didn’t even listen to the question.
Sweat also shot her...
The area where she was hit was torn into pieces.
"Who is James hanging out with! Answer me!" He continued to question the other person.
"Don't... don't kill me! Don't kill me!"
"Answer me! Bastard!"
"Follow "Locomotive" Felix Hills in Block 12!"
bong!
Sweat shot him directly in the head. After the body stood up straight, it fell heavily.
"Thank you!"
Sweat glanced at the frightened and trembling audience around him and grinned, "Do you still have anyone in the club?"
…
< br>(End of this chapter)