Working as a police officer in Mexico

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"Arrest Victor and Cuauhtémoc!"

Secretary Ajit suddenly looked up, his eyes carrying... a complex feeling of beholding an idiot.

What the hell are you doing?

A big stupid spring?

On what grounds are you arresting them?

Let's put it this way, the combat power of the Mexican Army, even African Niggers could pin them to the ground and rub them in the dirt.

Insufficient pay, deducted pensions, no air force above, no tanks below, even the so-called Special Forces are about to have their marrow sucked dry by Sinaloa, what else do you have?

Ajit opened his mouth, his tone bitter, "Sir..."

Carlos suddenly turned around, his eyes burning with the craziness of a gambler, bloodshot as well, "You... you're going to betray me too?"

Mad!

Utterly mad!

He couldn't bear the thought of being brought down by a "whippersnapper" and a "rival". To put it nicely, it was a do-or-die attitude. Bluntly, it was squatting without shitting.

And after he took office, there were indeed a number of people loyal to him.

Ajit hurriedly shook his head.

"I won't fail, the President of Mexico is me now, and it will definitely be me in the future!" Carlos rambled nervously, turned around, and pulled the curtain.

The setting sun cast a late-afternoon glow on him as it fell.

Carlos, just over 40, hunched his back, muttering, "I won't fail, I won't."

Ajit watched his silhouette!

A wicked thought soared to the heavens!

Seeing the tie hanging on the nearby coat rack, his hands clenched, his breathing turned ragged.

Carlos lifted his head, gazing through the window at the distance. Suddenly, his neck was constricted as a tie pulled from behind choked him, yanking him violently to the ground. He frantically reached his hand to claw at the nearby desk.

Everything on it fell down.

"Sir! Why do you have to go mad! Can't you step down quietly? Your actions will get us all killed!" Ajit hissed with suppressed rage behind him.

If Carlos actually announced the arrest of Victor and Cuauhtémoc, would he, as someone close to Carlos, be targeted for elimination?

Getting into a car, not making it far before it exploded.

"Why can't you just die!" Ajit roared in a hushed voice.

Carlos's face turned red from the suffocation, his veins bulging. His hand scrambled on the ground, grabbed a pencil, and stabbed it backwards.

"Aargh!" Ajit cried out in pain, his grip loosening instantly, rolling on the ground, covering his eyes with the pencil still in his right eye.

Carlos, clutching his neck, pulled open a drawer and fetched a handgun, firing pop, pop, pop at Ajit on the ground!

He emptied the magazine.

He collapsed onto the floor, staring at Ajit's corpse, eyes vacant.

And at that moment...

The Guard Corps finally arrived late.

These damned bodyguards really were unreliable.

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A group of four or five men burst in, seeing the scene in the office, too shocked to speak.

"Si... Sir."

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Carlos lifted his head, his voice a bit hoarse, "Ajit intended to assassinate me! He... is an assassin sent by Cuauhtémoc!"

"Summon Valdis!"

He was the commander of the Mexican National Security Intelligence Agency (Cisen) and also his brother-in-law.

One of the guards turned and went to call him.

"Drag the body away." Carlos looked at Ajit's body on the floor, his mouth twitched, and the remaining guards dragged the corpse out.

Valdis arrived quickly. He nearly lost his temper when he heard about the assassination attempt on Carlos and hurried over.

He was a typical Mexican with a somewhat rugged appearance.

"Brother-in-law..."

The moment he entered, he saw the other sitting in a chair, tremulously holding a cigarette, with the smell of blood still lingering in the air.

"Can I trust you, Valdis?" Carlos asked the moment he spoke, startling the other, but Valdis immediately pounded his chest, "Without you, there is no me, all that I have is yours."

The fierce light in Carlos's eyes faded, "Ajit betrayed me; he wanted to kill me. You go and issue a statement immediately—that Cuauhtémoc and Victor sent people to harm me and attempted to overthrow Mexico!"

"Deploy the army to suppress them!"

The more Valdis listened, the wider his mouth opened. Brother-in-law... I said all that I have is yours, but I didn't say my life is yours as well. Aren't you playing with fire?

Declaring them rebels, what does that mean?

It means entering a state of war!

"We have no way out." Carlos shoved the cigarette into his mouth and glanced at Valdis, stiff all over, "If I fall, do you think they'll spare you?"

"If they want us dead, then let's drag them to hell with us!"

"Valdis, you won't refuse me, right?" Carlos's left hand rested under the table, holding a handgun.

"I, and the Mexican National Security Intelligence Agency (Cisen), will definitely stand by your side, brother-in-law!"

Carlos nodded, "Mexico is still mine!"

...

The sky gradually darkened.

Tijuana was shrouded in darkness.

The damn power company had knocked off for the day.

Every now and then, sporadic gunshots could be heard. This city was too complicated, with drug traffickers everywhere!

Relying on just a few hundred men from the Counter-Terrorism Mobile Unit (TDTV) was not enough; they directly called in the Mexican National Emergency Squad (EDN) from the rear to the city.

Sizzle sizzle sizzle...

Combat boots stepped onto the waterlogged ground, making crisp sounds.

"Keep up! Don't get separated, damn it. If those drug traffickers grab you and chop off your head, don't blame me for not warning you," the leader at the front yelled.

All the new officers of EDN behind him tensed up and hurried to keep pace.

An old soldier with the rank of Sergeant crouched down to tie his shoelaces and suddenly heard a noise from a shop nearby. He raised his gun sharply, "Who's there!"

This sudden shout startled the new EDN officers, causing them to raise their guns and fire. Bang bang bang, bullets hit the wall.

"Don't… don't shoot!" A crying voice came from behind the wall, a woman, standing up shakily with her hair dyed in big, wavy yellow curls.

The leader looked at her, scrutinizing her from head to toe, his eyes suddenly narrowed, "What's that inside your clothes? Lift it up!" his voice suddenly rose.

"Get down!!!"

Boom...!

The woman exploded in a spray of blood and flesh, limbs flying everywhere, and the shockwave sent an older policeman, who had been nearby, flying.

The explosion sounded like a command; plenty of drug traffickers emerged from the rubble, opening fire on the policemen, and there was a small... machine gun bunker in front?

Damn!

A human bomb???

This squad instantly had several men down. The team leader, shot in the leg, crawled into a shelter, pressing on the communications device, "Scorpion! Scorpion!"

After shouting twice with no response, he cursed under his breath, "Tiger! Tiger!"

"Received!"

The Commander hurriedly ordered, "Launch the flare! Everyone else charge into the houses on both sides, grenade launchers take out the machine gun bunker!"

An older police officer pulled out a flare gun and fired it into the sky!

The red flare shot up, particularly visible against the night sky.

The surrounding policemen, seeing it, rushed toward its direction.

Hearing his commands, squad members charged into the houses on both sides. A rookie officer, unlucky, crashed into a shop at an intersection, just in time to see two drug traffickers inside!

The three of them stared at each other in a standoff.

They all reacted quickly, drawing their guns and opening fire!

Bullets flew everywhere in the store, the items on the shelves were shot to pieces.

"Damn! Damn!" the rookie was fired up, "I'll blow you bastards to hell!" pulling out a hand grenade, he yanked the pin and lobbed it behind him against the shelf.

"Watch out!" one of the drug traffickers yelled.

Boom...

The ground shook several times.

The rookie officer charged forward with a roar, smashed one of the drug traffickers with the butt of his gun, and fired a burst. The other trafficker, his leg broken, frantically raised his hands, "Don't kill—"

Biu!

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A bullet drilled into the opponent's eye socket, killing him dead.

Just as the rookie officer was catching his breath, he was suddenly slammed from behind, falling to the ground—a drug trafficker had been hiding there!

He gripped the policeman's throat tightly, his eyes fierce and saliva dripping from his mouth.

A fight for life!

The officer delivered a hard knee strike, and the sound of cracking... eggs echoed.

The drug trafficker's eyes bulged in pain.

This was a spot that would hurt regardless of gender.

The officer flipped him over, pinning him to the ground, and shoved a hand grenade beneath him, pressing his body down firmly.

Bong!

The two bodies were lifted by the blast wave.

"Cough cough..." the officer coughed hard twice, straining to lie on his side, gasping for air, completely drained of strength.

Just then, several flares shot into the sky, illuminating the night as if it were day.

Reinforcements had arrived!

The officer slowly closed his eyes, he was so tired. He saw the Commander running towards him in the distance, anxiously leaning over him, vigorously shaking him.

He couldn't hear anything; he just felt so worn out.

"Boom boom boom!"

In the city hall, Counter-Terrorism Mobile Unit (CTMU) Commander Kennedy Heisenberg pounded the table hard, "34 ambushes in one night, how is this a drug trafficker crackdown? Why is there still so much resistance?"

Zolf Sherman, the chastised head of the CTMU and Damon Hesfu Zola, commander of the Mexican National Emergency Squad (EDN), both hung their heads.

"Tijuana is too big... many drug traffickers have gone into hiding."

"Then mobilize the power of the people. How many times has the Director said that the drug war is not just a matter for the police? We need to mobilize more forces that desire prohibition, to help us catch the traffickers."

"Many traffickers still threaten ordinary citizens," Zolf Sherman said softly.

After a silence, Kennedy spoke:

"A war, a revolution, always requires bloodshed and sacrifice!"

The trouble with the war on crime is that drug traffickers have absolutely no morals, but the police must care for the safety of the civilians. In times like these, they could only hope the people themselves would rise up.

"Thump thump thump!"

While the three were silent, a policeman ran in, "Chief, we've been declared Rebels by Carlos!"

"Command wants us to disarm the local garrison!"

"???"

Zolf Sherman suddenly felt a chill go down his spine.

...

"Mr. Carlos has severely condemned the unrest in Baja California, believing Victor's actions have not been approved by the government, deeming them illegal and non-compliant!"

"Moreover, he's caused a large number of civilian casualties."

"Such actions are rebellious, and the army will be dispatched to suppress them!"

"Victor and Cuauhtémoc will be stripped of their Mexican nationality, and a warrant for their arrest will be issued!"

Victor watched the news on the television with a calm expression.

Casare and Alejandro were unusually quiet, exchanging glances.

"Heh, do I look like a rebel?"

Victor pointed to his own face, "Mr. Carlos is too stupid. Rebels and the Regular Army are distinguished not by declarations but by caliber!"

"He thinks the army will suppress me?"

"What army does he have!"

"Relying on that rubbish army that's joined forces with the drug traffickers?"

"I would like to ask him, who is the drug trafficker? Who is the rebel? Who is the scourge of Mexico!"

"If he wants no dignity, then we'll just have to restore it for him!"

Victor's eyes flashed, "Send a wire to Harris, I suspect that there are drug traffickers hiding in the Presidential Palace!"

"Ask Mr. Carlos for me, who really rules Mexico!"

"Why can traffickers roam free, why can they occupy high positions, why can't good people get the treatment they deserve, thinking I'm a rebel? Me and my officers don't accept it!"

Victor took a deep breath.

"Some have grown too accustomed to their lofty thrones, always thinking they are right. I will tell him, drug prohibition is the will of the people."

"This Mexico, still belongs to the light!"

...