Chapter 145 Codename: Heroic Action!

A cemetery in Sinaloa.

Very quiet.

Even the birds in the trees were quiet, perhaps because they felt sad.

Guzman, wearing a black suit and sunglasses, watched the coffin being put into the pit by several men.

Standing beside him were several mistresses and their children.

Guzman had about 50 children in his life, and he could raise them.

But the death of Ainsley, whom he regarded as his successor, was a major blow to him, and his hair on his temples turned a little gray.

This is what Victor wanted!

If you drug dealers are not killed, then my "fighting drugs with poison" anti-drug law will not be effective?

"Boss, condolences."

Arturo Beltran Leyva also sighed. They watched Ainsley grow up, but the drug trafficking business is like this, and you may die at any time and anywhere.

But the main thing is that Victor's methods are too "brutal"!

Even the undertaker couldn't help vomiting.

They even found a bomb in Ainsley's stomach!

Apparently, the police wanted to blow up their own group, but maybe some structure was damaged during transportation and they failed.

Otherwise...

"Boss! Boss!"

Suddenly, Hector ran over with a little nervousness on his face, and even fell down while running on the road.

"Flustered! What's wrong with you?!" Arturo scolded his brother.

Hector swallowed his saliva, "Quauçmote announced the establishment of a new political party in San Luis Potosí and impeached Carlos. He declared that if he came to power, he would strike the drug trafficking industry without leaving any room."

"Victor announced his support for him and launched a siege against other cities in Lower California. Fighting, fighting again!"

Drug dealers should be the group of people who care most about politics.

Because who comes to power determines their space for activities and the soil for future survival. He instinctively frowned when he heard the name of Cuauçmote.

"Damn, didn't you kill him?" Guzman looked at Arturo.

The latter was embarrassed, "No, there were too many guards around him, and our people and the Mexican intelligence agencies didn't keep them."

"Then why didn't you report to me!" Guzman stared.

Arturo looked at him, your son just died, I can't tell you "bad news", Guzman also understood the meaning in his cousin's eyes, and was silent for a moment.

"Should we send people to Tijuana for support?" Hector whispered, "They have called many times."

Guzman frowned and shook his head, "Let them recruit people in the city themselves, we won't send people for support, we don't want that place in Lower California!"

Arturo also thought that was the best way.

Following Victor, who has such strong firepower, to a head-on conflict, this... is completely seeking death.

I can only pray that my colleagues who are still active in Lower California will be blessed.

Guzman looked back at the tombstone, which showed a photo of Ainsley and a sentence: "Guzman's favorite son!"

"Ainsley, don't worry, I will send Victor down to accompany you!"

...

Who is the most panicked now?

The remnants of the drug dealers in Lower California.

Tijuana!

As the nest of the original drug cartel, even after the death of Benjamin and his brothers, there is still no peace here.

The Gulf Cartel, the Juarez Cartel, the Sinaloa Cartel...

They built this place into a front line or a buffer zone to resist "Tyrant Victor".

Coupled with other organizations fragmented from the Tijuana drug cartel, this important city in northwestern Mexico quickly surpassed other cities with 120 murders a day, occupying the throne of the first crime rate.

Because it is 19 kilometers north of San Diego, USA, refugees can be seen everywhere on the streets, waiting to enter the United States.

They are also a destabilizing factor in society.

On a street called "Dios de la guerra", this is a gathering place for the Run people, and there are idle black people everywhere.

They fight, and women become streetwalkers, using cigarettes and drugs to numb themselves.

Some refugees with artistic cells sit on chairs and play harmonicas quietly.

"Mom, I'm hungry." On a bench, a black girl looked up at her mother with a rumbling stomach.

Her mother held her hand tightly and looked nervously at the Mexican who was bargaining with her husband.

"NONONO, 20 US dollars, this is the highest. Look at her skinny, no one wants her. I have to support her for a while."

The Mexican wore a cowboy hat, chewed gum, glanced at the girl on the chair, and said to the man impatiently.

"Higher, higher~" the man begged.

The Mexican frowned, and when he was about to continue grinding, he saw a pickup truck rushing into "Dios de la guerra" Street, and a man with tattoos on his body stood on the roof of the car from the back of the car.

"The Sinaloa Cartel is hiring temporary workers, $25 an hour! Sign up!!!"

The refugees were stunned, but then they were shocked.

$25 an hour, NMMD, we can even go to war!

Many people rushed forward.

Even the man who was selling his daughter had his eyes light up, and he was about to run over in a hurry, but was stopped by the Mexican buyer, "Hey! What are you going to do?"

"Twenty-five dollars an hour! Don't you hear me? Let me go!"

"Idiot, is it so easy to get money from drug dealers?"

The man hesitated, but then he heard the drug dealer standing above shouting, "Come on! The places are limited."

He forgot about it for a moment, broke away from the Mexican buyer's hand, and crowded forward. The latter looked at his behavior and shook his head. He raised his head and looked at the drug dealer. His sixth sense gave him a premonition that something was going to happen. He rubbed oil on his soles. Run away from the crowd.

The man squeezed in and signed up because he was in good health, and ran to his wife and daughter with a smile on his face, "I found a job."

The woman was equally delighted, but she asked hesitantly, "Baruch, what are you doing with such a high salary? Isn't it going to let you sell drugs?"

The man named Baruch was startled. He looked at so many people around him and said, "If you can make money from selling drugs, then sell drugs."

The wife sighed.

But the child raised his head and said, "Mom, what is drug trafficking?"

This made them hesitant and didn't know how to answer.

Just a few minutes after the Sinaloa Group recruited people.

Pickup trucks from Juarez and Gulf Group also rushed in, and they even used loudspeakers.

"Juarez is hiring, $50 an hour!"

"Gulf Group is hiring, the hourly salary is $55!"

This made many refugees who signed up for Sinaloa regret it, but not all refugees were waste, and some felt something was wrong.

Why are each drug dealer more nervous than the other?

"Sir, sir, what do you need us to do?"

The drug dealer standing in the pickup truck looked down at the refugees below with a crazy look in his eyes, "It's okay, help us move our things."

How much money can you get just to move things?

The refugees looked at each other. If Mexico can make money, then the United States next door will definitely have more!

The drug dealer looked at the expressions on their faces, looking crazy.

Victor is calling!

Cannon fodder is waiting to go to the battlefield!

…

"Go straight from the Plaza Mexicali to the battlefield!"

The troops are divided into three groups to encircle and suppress drug dealers in nearby cities!

Codename: Heroic Action! !

Victor can now be said to have a strong army. He is one of the 700 elite members of EDM (Lions of Mexico). The lowest police rank for all members is police sergeant, and they enjoy the best welfare benefits.

Next is the Terrorist Mobile Team (EDTV), which recruited another 600 recruits to form a force of 1,400 people. It is definitely the mainstay!

The rest are EDN (Mexican Emergency Response Team) who have been trained for only three months. There are 900 people in total, but this team is all good family members of Guadalupe Island, and they are definitely Victor's closest confidants!

Moreover, in the past three months, they have learned more than a dozen techniques and tactics, including artillery tactics, individual tactics, radio codes, etc. Anyway, they are all crammed into their heads, and of course they cannot master it in a short time.

But this time they were roped in to encircle and suppress drug dealers, and let them experience the atmosphere of war, mainly by attacking.

And local security will be handed over to the newly established "National Guard"!

There is also an armed formation with 30 helicopters!

Anyway, if he has points in his hand and smashes them as hard as he can, this air power will exceed that of at least 40% of Blue Star countries. Originally, Victor was planning to exchange them for military aircraft, but this thing...

It was so irritating to the Mexican authorities.

After all, they still use old antiques.

It would be better to wait until Kwaukemot comes to power. He has already thought about the name.

"Mexican air police force!"

I, Victor, being the commander is not too much, right?

…

Baruch was carrying the sandbag with tired eyes.

He was strong and strong, and was sent to build sandbags at the gate of Tijuana. He still couldn't figure out what the purpose of this thing was.

Look at those drug dealers... they also set up... machine guns next to them!

That was a machine gun. He had seen it on the warlord's troops in his hometown in Africa, and he panicked. Is this going to be a war?

He ran away precisely because he didn't want to fight. Why, is there still a war here?

"What are you doing standing still! Why don't you move quickly!"

A drug dealer saw Baruch in a daze, picked up a stone on the ground and threw it at him, hitting him on the head. The pain caused Baruch to come to his senses and nodded hurriedly.

These drug dealers have no humanity, there is no way they can be given a break.

Buzz buzz…

At this moment, Baruch heard a sound coming from the air and raised his head in confusion.

He saw 1.2.3...7 helicopters appearing not far away, and he even counted them!

Baruch's eyes suddenly widened.

"Helicopter! Helicopter!" the drug dealer who stoned him shouted sharply, causing panic at the door.

And Baruch didn't know whether he was frightened or stunned, but looked straight at it.

He saw that the helicopters were not approaching. What else was hanging underneath?

That seems to be... a tank? ! !

probably?

1 km from Tijuana.

The commander of the Terrorist Mobile Team, Zolph Sherman, frowned. The propeller of the helicopter gave him a headache, but he was still happy when he saw the thing being transported.

"Weasel" 1 airborne armored vehicle!

Porsche's flagship product.

It is equipped with a 20mm cannon, surface-to-air missiles and anti-aircraft missiles. Of course, these are all optional.

However, if these 7 armored vehicles cooperate properly, they are enough to run rampant in the city.

It's just that the protection is a bit fragile.

But there is no way. Are there any armored vehicles or tanks with high firepower, high rate of fire, good mobility, and strong defense?

You can't have your cake and eat it too!

"Take it off quickly!"

The police officer climbed up and untied the hooked rope.

"After 45 minutes, we will encircle Tijuana!!"

……