These rebels really are fools.
This isn’t Africa, where a few people with a couple of guns dare to stage a coup, the chanics are completely different.
Over there, they’re masters of probabilistic shooting.
Their kind has spawned the likes of Bokassa, Marcie, Amin, Doi, Mobutu - such "fine breeds."
But shouldn’t it be the French who are corrupted?
How co there are xicans whose brains have also short-circuited?
Kennedy’s word is his bond.
He personally led a team, taking many prisoners straight into Detrius’s Official Residence at "Tijuana Fortuna," a place similar to the previously ntioned "Godr community," ho to high-ranking mbers.
What he left behind in Tijuana.
Others develop real estate for bribing local officers, but once Victor takes the stage, he confiscates it all.
At night, elderly n and won walking their dogs suddenly saw a stream of police cars rushing in; their eyelids twitched - trouble was coming.
"Isn’t that Jonathan Aguirre? What’s happening?" an old man asked in astonishnt, pointing at a prisoner being led away with a bruise on his face, obviously from a beating, his police uniform in a ss.
And his hands are tied?
What... what is going on?
That Jonathan Aguirre is a high-ranking officer in the police force, with a bright future ahead.
They watched this group of policen rush into the villa, escorting out a crowd of people - old and young, n and won.
These rebels’ families were clearly panicked, at a loss for what to do.
"Mr. Victor gave you a chance to progress, but it’s a pity your relatives didn’t appreciate it, and they even dared to stage an ard rebellion!"
What!
Rebellion!
A crowd suddenly showed their panic, and the old n and won who were watching sensed trouble and swiftly made their escape, dragging their reluctant dogs with them.
"Abe, stop barking! Go, let’s get ho," one old woman said as she grabbed the back of a Shiba Inu’s neck and ran towards her house.
This was not sothing they could get involved in.
Kennedy drew his gun and shot a woman in front of him three tis, killing her instantly - did you think your big chest made you special?
This scene frightened them, and the chattering that had just been there stopped abruptly.
Kennedy, with a stern face, looked at them, "Where is Detrius’s family?"
The crowd hastily looked towards a woman, two children, his parents, and his brother.
"Officer, officer, there’s been a misunderstanding! A misunderstanding!" the woman stamred, "My husband couldn’t possibly be a traitor; he is loyal to Mr. Victor!"
"You’re lying! You... you’re definitely the traitors," Detrius’s brother said, equally agitated.
Kennedy had no ti to play house with them; with a wave of his hand, policen behind him rushed up and grabbed their heads.
"No! I beg you, please, spare my children!"
Kennedy narrowed his eyes, "Kill!"
If you don’t eradicate the root, the spring breeze will bring it back to life.
Pop pop pop!
The crisp sound of gunfire, execution-style, from the back of the head, bullets piercing through the nerves in the brain, as anyone who has experienced dying would know, is virtually painless.
"Next..."
Kennedy turned to look at the prisoners and smiled, his gaze full of resentnt, "Next, whose family will it be?"
The prisoners squird.
"Kennedy, we won’t dare again, spare us a way out, all my money is yours, I’ll leave xico, I’ll go to the United States, and I promise never to co back in this lifeti," pleaded a prisoner under pressure, crying and begging.
Want to go to the United States?
Are you going there to enjoy yourself, or to seek refuge, damn it?
Kennedy nodded, "So none of you choose, eh? I’ll choose for you. Let’s play a little ga, starting with you."
"The ga is called ’Tire Superman’!"
"You get a tire around your body, then we’ll douse you in gasoline. You just have to endure for 30 seconds, and I’ll spare your family."
With a wave, Kennedy’s n dragged the prisoner who had spoken up to the middle of the road, fit him with a discarded tire, and poured gasoline over it, all pre-prepared.
"No, no, don’t! Ah!!! Ah!!!"
As the officer struck a match, the flas burst up instantly; being encased in the tire is truly agonizing. You can’t break free, and once it lts, it practically fuses to your skin.
It’s a little ga from the Africa division.
He couldn’t endure for even a few seconds before collapsing, as his family mbers in the crowd covered their mouths, weeping softly.
Twenty seconds, no more than that!
The screams stopped abruptly.
Kennedy shook his head, "I gave you a chance and you wasted it."
His expression was ruthless, "Kill them all!"
A policeman with a machine gun mowed down the families of the rebels.
"Run!!"
"Help!!! "
Ratatatatatatatat...
The birds circling the rooftops, perhaps agitated by the stench of blood in the air, flapped their wings and left.
Mr. Victor would surely be satisfied with this kind of "clean-up."
"Move out!"
Kennedy got into the car, leading his n away. The bodies? Just leave them overnight, let the other "residents" inside understand: in Tijuana, stealing, even murder or drug trafficking, usually gets you a death sentence, but if you betray Victor, your entire family gets exterminated.
Don’t sleep too soundly at night.
George Smiley from Section 13 was furious.
The employees below were obviously uncomfortable too.
The Spanish intelligence service had to be rooted out.
In Tijuana, where do you think you can run?
They were located instantly.
When they stord in, intelligence operatives inside were in the midst of burning docunts. One female agent even tried to draw her gun to fight back but was promptly flattened by the raid team using a submachine gun.
User Comments
0 comments from readers