Working as a police officer in Mexico Chapter 79: Do you know where the entrance to the military c

Zacatecas State.

A muscular man in a black short-sleeve shirt walked out of the Walmart Supermarket, with a large tattoo visible on his shoulder, a brawny build, and a thick beard on his face.

He carried the food he had bought and got into a pickup truck, and through the mirror, two more people could be seen sitting inside.

As the vehicle was about to start, a van suddenly blocked their way, startling the driver into slamming the brakes and angrily honking the horn while sticking his head out and cursing continuously.

The van’s door opened.

Four fully ard individuals jumped out, wearing skull masks, one of them holding a shotgun to the driver’s head and firing with a "bang"!

It was like splitting a waterlon.

The rest of them yanked open the doors and dragged the remaining two out onto the ground.

"Lázaro, where is Benjamin?"

Kennedy Heisenberg stood in front of him, questioning the short-sleeve tough guy, but the other man just glared and refused to answer.

"Smack!"

A slap to the face.

"Where is Benjamin?!"

But the man’s face swelled from the slap, and he stubbornly resisted, "I don’t know."

Kennedy didn’t bother talking, he pulled out a pistol and decisively shot him in the head, then turned his gaze to the other man, "Where is Benjamin?"

"I... I don’t know, I really don’t, I’m just an ordinary good citizen," the man was completely terrified.

"Hood him!" Kennedy waved his hand.

An officer behind him put a plastic bag directly over the man’s head and started to tighten it fervently, fogging up the bag instantly as the man struggled desperately, panting heavily in panic, then quickly beca severely oxygen-deprived.

When the bag was removed, the man was gasping for air.

"I don’t know, I don’t know," he continued to mumble.

It’s not that they were really that tough; it was just that revealing Benjamin’s location would definitely get them killed by the Tijuana Group!

Benjamin and his brother were notoriously ruthless, and with "Godfather" Gallardo’s careful guidance, they were extrely cautious!

"Drop your pants!"

Kennedy took a stick from the van and handed it to one of the officers, and the rest turned the man over and pulled down his pants.

"Give it to !" Another officer nicknad "Leopard Lion" snatched the stick away, saying harshly, "Do you want your ass blooming? I guarantee you’ll only like n for the rest of your life."

The thought of it made one’s anus slightly ache.

What man could endure such torture?

His tone even started to carry a whine, "There is an engagent party tonight at Masamitra for Benjamin’s sister. All the high-level leaders of the Tijuana Group will be there, and nobody else."

Kennedy nodded, patted his face, "Thanks, kill him."

"Leopard Lion" grabbed his hair and fired three shots into his head.

The group of people got into the van and casually drove off.

A few minutes later, the security guard from Walmart timidly ca out, swallowed his saliva at the sight of the bodies on the ground, and then chose to call the police.

It doesn’t matter...

It won’t affect business.

The van drove straight to an abandoned factory, which was a temporary resting place.

Victor heard that his old boss "Alejandro" was coming to Baja California to take up his post and thought of earning so rit points for him.

If Alejandro knew he had such a good subordinate, he would definitely be happy and curse him to death.

The real reason, however, was that Victor couldn’t possibly stay on the island forever; he would use this as a stepping stone and then "march" into California, where the Tijuana Cartel headquartered there was the first target to be eliminated.

Kennedy ca ahead with his n to see if there was a chance to take out the Benjamin brothers.

Once this large organization was headless, it would be even easier to strike.

"Boss, how are we going to infiltrate the hotel tonight?"

"Wipe out the drug traffickers, and walk in openly," said Kennedy, sparing his words.

The rest of the EDM officers looked at each other in bewildernt.

That crude?

Shouldn’t there at least be so kind of plan?

"As long as all are eliminated, no one will know we’re assassins."

Kennedy pushed aside a table, patted the ground, and upon hearing a hollow sound, found a ring to pull on and wrenched it open, a thick odor instantly assaulting their noses.

"Get down there, the boss has prepared sothing inside."

Three officers went down wearing gas masks, and soon started dragging out boxes with a skull painted on them.

It also had a sign in Spanish: ¡Armas químicas, peligrosas! (Chemical weapons! Dangerous!)

Several officers glanced at each other, imdiately understanding what was inside.

"Boss, doesn’t this need to go to a military tribunal?"

Kennedy glanced at them, "Do you know which way the doors of the military tribunal open?"

He paused, "Besides, the boss would go to jail."

The officers: "???"

"It’s not essential; if all goes well, we won’t need to use these. They’re just for our ntal comfort."

This thing...

The lethality is still too sadistic.

...

When Victor arrived at the dock in a Humr, he saw several officers in a standoff with about seven or eight people, so of whom were wearing Guatemalan military uniforms.

A dark-skinned man, possibly with Niger bloodline, pointed at an officer and started berating him. Victor was too far to hear what was being said.

But with a blink of his eye, all the information about that man was revealed.

Carlos Ruiz Felix

Male!

The newly-appointed Mayor of Guadalupe Island.

A senior mber of the Tijuana Cartel.

Cousin of Benjamin Felix.

...

In 1987, during Governor Rafael Max’s campaign, more than 200 people gathered to protest his corrupt activities, demanding his resignation.

The Governor, furious, proclaid, "Let’s show them so color."

A few hours later, a group of ard militants mixed with police forces attacked the demonstrating students. Masked ard militants imdiately began firing, scattering the crowd, and right there, six students died, with more than twenty injured.

At that ti, the person in charge of the police forces was Carlos Ruiz Felix.

He watched as the crowd of protestors was massacred.

That incident barely caused a ripple at the ti; with the Governor above and the Tijuana Cartel below, he was at most in trouble for a couple of years.

This ti, he finally got his chance to rise to power.

"Run him over!"

Victor never asked why scumbags beca scumbags; they just needed to be dealt with!

The EDM officer driving the vehicle nodded at Victor’s words, pressed the accelerator, and with a roar from the engine of the Humr, all eyes at the dock turned toward them.

They saw a Humr speeding towards the crowd.

Several quick-reacting Guatemalan soldiers hastily dodged, but so were not fast enough and were knocked to the ground.

Even a dog in the distance stood up with its tail tucked in fear.

The Humr directly hit Carlos Ruiz, sending him flying three or four ters before running over his head without slowing down!

With a jerk of his leg, his head... his brain was gone.

Victor stepped out of the vehicle, looked at the burst head on the ground, and frowned, "There are still drug cartels on the island, and now the new mayor and Guatemalan external liaisons have all been killed!"

Casare, shrewd as always, engaged the machine gun from the vehicle, targeting the remaining individuals and pulled the trigger, sweeping across them.

Damn, they didn’t even let them speak.

Not a single bit of freedom!

Sorry, but Uncle Victor here "practices dictatorship!"

"Toss them into the sea to feed the sharks."

"Boss, if the state asks for the drug traffickers, what do we do?" Casare thought through every aspect.

Victor glanced around and pointed at the dog that had stood up and was panting, "I think he’s the leader of the drug cartel."

Casare’s face twitched, and he forced out a question, "Boss, dogs don’t shoot guns, do they?"

"Maybe the dogs on Guadalupe Island are a bit smarter?"

"Whether they believe it or not is their problem, if they can believe in the existence of God, why can’t they believe that this dog is a drug trafficker? Isn’t that a double standard? It doesn’t matter what they think; what matters is what I think. If I say it’s a drug trafficker, then it must be one!"

"So... what are you planning to do then?"

Victor’s gaze flickered, "Do you eat dog at?"

........