Working as a police officer in Mexico Chapter 1306 - Capítulo 1306: 634: Let Your Nonsense Fly Awa

Capítulo 1306: Chapter 634: Let Your Nonsense Fly Away with Your Cover

Casare’s voice carried a hint of uncontrollable excitent, “Boss, dellin! Our people have broken into dellin!”

Victor’s steps halted abruptly, the weariness in his eyes instantly replaced by a sharp gleam. He turned around and stared at Casare, “Explain clearly!”

“Carlos Leder, one of the three leaders of dellin,” Casare spoke rapidly, “He’s scared! Pablo’s bodyguard leader, John Jairo Villarquez, never intended to truly surrender. He plans to orchestrate a massacre during the surrender ceremony, wiping out our people along with the traitors he has a grudge against, and the Colombian Governnt!”

“At that ti, they could turn the tables!”

Victor squinted his eyes, “Naive!”

“Carlos chickened out. He doesn’t want to go crazy with Villarquez, nor does he want to die! He secretly contacted our frontline command. He provided detailed intelligence on John Jairo Villarquez’s security arrangents, including the locations of concealed heavy firepower, the sniper positions, and the passage to his own safe house… The only condition: spare his life and his core family, and guarantee no prosecution!”

Victor raised an eyebrow, “Tell him, deal, let his people lead the way.”

After all, keeping one’s word is a matter of morality, not law.

Morality, he always lacked.

Colombia. dellin.

Carlos’s confidant, a pale but fiercely-eyed individual, led a team of elite mbers of xico’s 141st Special Battalion, quietly infiltrating the heart of dellin like ghosts through the passage provided by Carlos.

Their target was Carlos’s “safe house” located on the top floor of an apparently ordinary apartnt building.

Carlos sat in the living room of the safe house, the expensive leather sofa feeling like a bed of needles. He forced himself to remain calm, dialing Villarquez’s encrypted line, his voice trying hard to maintain its usual tone, “John, it’s , there’s a bit of a situation, we need to talk face to face, it’s urgent, co to my place, the safe house, just you alone, sothing doesn’t feel right.”

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end, then Villarquez’s deep voice sounded, emotionless, “Just ? Carlos.”

“I’m sure! Hurry up!” Carlos’s voice carried a barely noticeable tremor.

Ti ticked by, each second feeling like torture in a frying pan.

Finally, the electronic sound of unlocking ca from the heavy bulletproof door of the safe house.

The door slowly opened, and the tall figure of John Jairo Villarquez appeared at the entrance. He didn’t walk in imdiately, his hawk-like eyes scanning the living room sharply.

Carlos sat stiffly on the sofa, his gaze flickering; the air was filled with a deliberately forced calmness and a hint of… unfamiliar sweat?

Too clean, not even a bodyguard?

Villarquez imdiately sensed sothing wrong, his right hand seemingly casually hanging at his side, but only inches away from his quick-draw holster.

“Carlos,” Villarquez’s voice was urgent with a frown, “What do you want to talk about? At a ti like this?”

Carlos suddenly stood up, trying to force a smile, “John, listen to , I think your plan isn’t quite right?”

“What do you an?” Villarquez interrupted him, his gaze as sharp as a knife, instantly locking on the odd black shoe shadow slipping from the narrow gap under the closed bedroom door in the living room side.

“Move!!”

No one knew who shouted.

Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

The gunshots erupted almost the mont the roar sounded!

Not from the bedroom, but from the other side of the living room, behind the bar!

The gunman Carlos arranged had been exposed prematurely! Bullets ripped through the air, hitting the spot Villarquez had just been standing, shattering an expensive decorative vase instantly.

Villarquez rolled to the side while drawing his gun, his movents agile.

A bullet grazed his shoulder, sending a trail of blood spray, as his large-caliber handgun thundered in retaliation.

“Carlos! You traitor!” Villarquez roared like a beast as he rolled to find cover, as bullets thudded against the heavy wooden cabinet he hid behind, splinters flying.

Carlos, terrified, scrambled towards the bedroom, where he had planned “Plan B” and where the mbers of the 141st Special Battalion were stationed.

“Stop him!” The bedroom door was violently kicked open, and several mbers of the 141st Special Battalion, dressed in urban combat uniforms and their faces sared with camouflage, pounced out like tigers, their assault rifles spewing deadly fire, instantly suppressing the area where Villarquez hid.

A rain of bullets poured down, instantly covering the walls of the living room with bullet holes, and the expensive furniture riddled with holes, fragnts flying.

Villarquez was pinned down by the fierce firepower, unable to raise his head.

A mber of the 141st Special Battalion attempted to flank from the side.

“Ah—!”

A tragic scream, the mber attempting to flank was accurately shot in the thigh by Villarquez, tumbling to the ground.

In the chaos, Villarquez saw Carlos shrinking in terror at the corridor corner leading to the bedroom.

Fury instantly consud all his reason.

He sprang out from behind cover, exposing half of his body, completely ignoring the whizzing bullets, his gun barrel fixedly pointed at Carlos!

“Fuck you!! Why!” Villarquez’s voice was filled with furious disappointnt and murderous intent as he pulled the trigger!

“Bang!” As the gunshot sounded, a mber of the 141st Special Battalion beside Carlos suddenly tackled him, the bullet grazing Carlos’s scalp, blowing a large hole in the wall.