Working as a police officer in Mexico

Cuauhtémoc, of course, would not sit idly by.

Isn't political spitting just quarreling?

He was completely ready to fight. In a car motel in San Luis Potosi, Cuauhtémoc accepted an interview with "Mexican TV station".

There were two special agent bodyguards standing at the door.

Within a meter of him sat people staring intently at the reporters.

The female reporter shifted her hips and crossed her legs to avoid a wardrobe mishap, but her chest was really big!

Do women from the Latin American region only eat coconuts?

"Mr. Cuauhtémoc, Mr. Carlos said that you are causing trouble in Mexico and expelled both you and Mr. Victor from Mexico citizenship. What do you think?"

"Who is he? What qualification does he have? Or rather, what does he stand for! Victor and I have been fully committed to Mexico's anti-drug cause, and he's actively undermining our efforts from behind. Such behavior is a shameful betrayal!"

Cuauhtémoc spoke quite bluntly.

"Moreover, we have evidence to prove that he has a deep-seated interest intersection with the Guadalajara Cartel." As he spoke, he glanced at the bodyguard beside him, who took out a radio.

"This is a confession given to us by the DEA after arresting Quintero, you can listen to it."

Static~

The radio emitted breathing sounds.

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A male voice asked, "What's your name?"

"Rafael Caro Quintero!" a weak voice replied.

"What post do you hold within the Guadalajara Cartel?"

"I'm in charge of research."

"Do you have any protection umbrella in Mexico? Besides the Defense Minister Galarqui, who else backs you up?"

Quintero fell silent, "Carlos Salinas, his family has shares in our business, and I paid them 30 million US Dollars for my escape. I have a ledger that details everything very clearly."

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"We helped him assassinate a political rival and he promised not to pursue us, I also have a recording of that."

"We have got all these pieces of evidence." Cuauhtémoc took out a ledger and a tape recorder, "I can't believe that a national leader would stoop to colluding with drug traffickers!"

"He neither has the right nor the capability to stand on any moral high ground to criticize Victor and me, and I also call on all the armed forces to show restraint and not become Mexico's sinners."

"We are on an extremely correct path!" Cuauhtémoc said powerfully.

The female reporter nodded, listening to him finish talking.

After the interview ended, she said with a smile, "Sir, may I take these two items with me?"

Cuauhtémoc was taken aback, "I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid that won't be possible."

The female reporter sounded slightly disappointed, "I understand, may I take a photo then?"

He didn't refuse, got up, and leaned over, also looking down at his feet.

"Sir! Be careful!"

Suddenly, the special agent behind him shouted, yanking Cuauhtémoc backwards, who lifted his head only to see the female reporter pulling out an NAA 22 Short pocket pistol from under the microphone!

The damn thing was stuck in the microphone.

The total length was only 10 centimeters.

She fired at Cuauhtémoc!

The closely following special agent quickly used his back to block the muzzle.

The special agent by the door, hearing the gunfire, immediately rushed in, took control of the woman in no time, battered half her face with a punch, and stuck a finger inside her mouth to pull out a capsule from under her tongue.

MD!

What era is it, and there are still such loyal fanatics?

But it seems that there are really quite a few, like during the "Flight 858 crash", wasn't there one who committed suicide?

It's only been a few years since then.

Cuauhtémoc hurried to help the special agent, anxiously asking if he was okay, "Quick, take him to the hospital!"

He stood in front of the female reporter, frowning, "Why do you want to kill me?"

"Many people want you dead, and both you and Victor will die. You tampered with a cake that you shouldn't have." The female reporter looked up at him fiercely.

Cuauhtémoc fell silent, "The path of drug prohibition we've chosen is beyond reproach!"

What's wrong is Mexico, what's wrong is the entire moral compass of Latin America.

"Then turn it around! If it can't be turned, violence is the best means."

Victor, upon receiving the news of Cuauhtémoc's assassination attempt, broke out in a cold sweat. If this guy died, he really could only become a rebel.

"Make sure to interrogate that woman, even if it means blowing up her [censored] to find out who it is!" He hung up the call grimly, opened a drawer that contained a box of cigarettes and a pack of gum.

He pondered for a moment, chose the cigarettes, put one in his mouth, "It's time to give the big shots a bit of a violent shock!"

...

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!"

Chaotic footsteps echoed outside the 17th Battalion's military camp in Tijuana, where the sentry was dozing off. Seeing the array of gun muzzles outside, he got an instant chill!

Before he could react, an armored vehicle barged into the camp, clearing the way, and the sentry got dragged in front of a Humvee by two officers.

"Where's your commanding officer?" Kennedy, seated in the passenger seat, asked.

Watching so many people staring at him, the sentry's teeth started chattering, "The commander went with some troops to help the drug traffickers yesterday, and they haven't returned yet."

"??"

Kennedy and Zolf Sherman sitting behind exchanged glances, both silent for a long time.

So it turned out... the local military actually went to assist drug traffickers against the Anti-Drug Force.

Haven't returned?

That probably means they are not coming back.

"How many are left in the barracks? Why didn't they take you guys?"

"23 people, all of them are either old, weak or sick, and I have a leg injury, so..." The sentry hurriedly pulled up his trouser leg, revealing a bandaged wound.