xico was cultivated by Victor as soon as he entered Tijuana in 1990.
After all, gender has never been a barrier to excellence!
At this mont on the muddy ground…
A ss, burning cars, charred corpses, and blasted craters all constantly tell a fact:
Little punk, what do you have to fight with ?
About forty minutes later, the military police drove over with a bulldozer, scooping up the corpses along with the mud.
Tsk tsk tsk…
It's really too tragic.
anwhile, the Salvador Military Police Headquarters drove the destroyed cars around the capital city, flaunting their power.
They even used loudspeakers to shout: Surrender and be spared, resist and be executed!
The civilians and gang mbers hidden among them, seeing the wrecked car remains and the bloodstains and scraps of flesh dangling from them, turned pale with fright.
Edgar Santos Castro, the leader of Barrio 18, quickly got the news.
His face looked extrely grim.
Like he'd just lost a father.
His hands trembled absent-mindedly as he tried to smoke, ending up putting the cigarette in backward, tasting the tobacco.
"Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey… Damn! The Chechens are useless; even if there were 120 pigs, it would take a while to kill them, and they were all wiped out by the xicans, so useless."
The confidant beside him didn't look any better, "We don't have air superiority; they were intercepted by xico's A10s on the way and couldn't hold on. Really couldn't hold on."
Edgar Santos Castro gritted his teeth, having learned to change his expression.
The confidant twisted the knife a bit further.
"The lower-level people are changing their minds; we can't hold on. About 1,300 have surrendered to the Salvador governnt."
Bam—
He slamd the table hard, "Surrender?! No surrender! We haven't lost yet."
The confidant showed a bitter expression.
They had fought with the Salvador military before, always thinking that military forces from other countries were the sa as the Yankees.
Trash!
But the xico Ard Police Force has been here less than two months…
Hey, you know what?
It cured my arrogance!
Just like MacArthur cured Old Jiang's ntal exhaustion.
"Where are the weapons? The rocket launchers, anti-aircraft machine guns, grenade rifles we bought from the Arican arms dealers? I just don't believe xico's planes fly that high, and their infantry fly too," Edgar Santos Castro shouted angrily.
"Our sea and land are blockaded. xico's naval ships are patrolling the sea unless you provide a manifest, or they'll have to inspect all, otherwise nothing gets through."
"Damn it, Alfred (the Salvador President) is so weak, can endure things like this? That's our coastline, why let the xicans control it?"
"..."
Listening to those words, soone unfamiliar might think he's so loyal and filial guy.
But he's actually a drug trafficker, a gang leader.
Moreover, those words sound so aggrieved.
But what can be done…
Alfred has already moved his whole family into a villa arranged by the xican Governnt, remotely controlling the dostic situation.
Besides, the trend of anti-narcotics and cracking down on gangs is on their side, with public opinion favoring the military; it's only a matter of ti before gangs fade away.
Edgar Santos Castro's breathing suddenly beca rapid, but his confidant beside him wasn't flustered, quickly administering a few sprays of Budesonide Inhalation Aerosol into his mouth.
The redness on the other's face gradually subsided as he sat on the sofa, looking exhausted.
He has asthma and often needs the dication at hand.
He looked down at the Budesonide Inhalation Aerosol in his hand; it said: Made in Exico (origin xico).
Damn!
Edgar angrily threw the aerosol away, humiliated and angry, "Next ti, switch to the British one."
Just seeing Exico now irritates him.
But after the anger passed, he spoke in a defeated voice, hoarse from the aerosol's side effects, "Order the brothers to withdraw from San Salvador City."
Staying would only increase casualties.
The confidant subordinate could only agree.
No other choice.
The saying "backwardness leads to being beaten" doesn't quite fit here; it's more like…
Justice will prevail!
And concurrently, in a white building at the northwest corner of Salvador City.
The sign outside reads the xico Military Police Headquarters in Salvador.
Alfred Schlieffen was in his office doodling, and upon closer examination, it was a big turtle.
He seed to be in a good mood.
"Knock knock knock—"
"Co in."
In walked a man with a resolute face, sowhat looking like a great general, sporting a Colonel badge.
"Commander," he said, saluting ticulously.
"Colonel Oscar Huddler, I've said we don't have to be so formal with ; you are the Deputy Commander of the Military Police."
"You must address by ranks at work."
Listening to his precise words, Alfred Schlieffen felt helpless, "What's up? Anything to report?"
"The third wave of reinforcents will arrive tomorrow, consisting of 3,120 people, a heavy infantry battalion. Counting them, we'll have over seven thousand people. I think we can push out and completely crush the two gangs."
His voice filled with murderous intent as he spoke.
Colonel Oscar Huddler isn't from the police departnt; he was transferred from the Staff Departnt, and he does things strictly by the book.
"Our numbers are too few; the Supre Leader assigned us twenty thousand. Let's wait patiently..."
"But wars are best resolved quickly; the gangs can't resist us at all."
It's been two months, not a single casualty, just a dozen wounded.
Alfred Schlieffen frowned, looking at him, laying his pen down and walking over to the map, pointing to Salvador, "This place is excellent. We're less than 1,700 kiloters from dellin, Colombia, and within reach of other South Arican countries. Do you know what that ans?"
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