Working as a police officer in Mexico

Fat Casare's brow twitched.

"This is certainly a family annihilation."

"Even if the cow you're raising gets pregnant, they will have to dissect your cow; even the dogs by the street will be killed."

"To the public, just say the drug traffickers killed them all when they fled. We express our severe protest and deep regret, extremely grieved. If we had arrived a little earlier, perhaps this wouldn't have happened,"

Victor, even if he weren't a police officer, would not starve if he became a journalist.

"Understand?" he suddenly asked.

"Understood!"

Victor nodded, his gaze shifting outside the car as a patrol squad driving "Weasel" No. 1 infantry fighting vehicles passed by, saluting excitedly as they went by the convoy.

They were loudly singing "Mexico has Victor".

Victor rolled down the window, smiling and waving his hand.

His own police officers were truly majestic.

Certainly much better than the other military police in Mexico.

After the patrol squad left, he closed the window, still with a smile on his face, "I think we should distinguish our anti-drug police force from the regular police."

"I plan to design a special police flag and song!"

Casare was not from the military and didn't understand, but Zolf Sherman did. Was Victor planning to establish his own army?

He was somewhat at a loss for what to say at that moment, but he was definitely excited.

The current team was indeed disordered. Though it was called the Anti-Drug Force, the organization was still very chaotic, sometimes sounding like a guerrilla force, not at all like a regular army.

At the very least, they should be divided into road police forces, air police forces, marine police forces, along with artillery police forces and logistics.

Then detailed designations could be assigned below that.

EDM, EDTV were more suited for sub-division 'awe-inspiring special operations squads' that only performed decapitation strikes on the battlefield.

Just like the special forces that many countries have within their military branches.

Victor was not going to face small groups of drug traffickers, but well-armed, experienced old thieves.

"Boss..."

Zolf Sherman, both nervous and excited to the extreme, suddenly spoke, his voice seemingly trembling.

If the boss advanced, then couldn't we also progress!

It felt like I was shouldering the safety of Mexico.

Boss, move up!

"What, you constipated?" Victor asked with a strange look in his eyes.

Zolf Sherman shook his head quickly. How could he let the leader know he wasn't feeling well? His body was in top condition now.

"No, I'm just very excited."

Victor always felt there were few normal people under his command. At the Mexico International News Department, they were all 'Gods of Guns'. Apparently, Ethan Hunt almost charmed Blanco into wanting to bear his children.

The rest were thinking about a raise every day.

MD, sooner or later, I'll send you all into the United States.

"We'll talk about this when we get back to Tijuana."

Zolf Sherman nodded vigorously. Whenever you say, boss, just call me, don't forget about me.

When the car returned to the city hall, as Victor was about to get out, he saw a familiar face.

Jonathan Pannier from the DEA!

What brought him here?

Victor was a bit stunned, frowning as he approached, "Let's talk upstairs."

The other party glanced around, also understanding this place wasn't suitable, nodded, and went to the governor's office behind.

"What's up?"

As soon as they entered, Victor asked.

"DEA's intelligence agency in Colombia was destroyed!"

"I can't contact anyone."

"And the person in charge there, Javier Dominguez's wife and kids were murdered by a local gang yesterday."

"The FBI has found the local gang, but we suspect that Javier's chances are slim."

Jonathan Pannier said gravely.

"How many people were in the Colombia division?"

"27!"

"All missing?" Victor was also a bit shocked when the other party nodded, he knew then, they must be dead.

Jonathan Pannier: "Tomorrow is the 27th, the last time you passed on information about Mexico, Colombia, and Panama, Guatemala's warlords planning to establish the North American Drug Trafficking Association at the courthouse, the higher-ups are taking it seriously."

"Our leaders have also reported it."

"And then?"

"But the CIA says these are all lies, made up by our DEA to swindle funds. F***! Those dumbasses are just plugging their ears with their asses; they'll someday pay for their arrogance." Jonathan Pannier cursed.

This curse extended until 2001.

Victor, however, had more to think about. If he wasn't mistaken, the "Gulf War" would erupt in less than a week. At such a time, the CIA was very busy, who had time for your stuff?

The big shots were all busy commanding the battlefield. It's just drug trafficking, right?

Let them traffic all they want!

Isn't it just some messy drug traffickers forming some messy little gang?

What could they possibly stir up?

Could they bring calamity to the Americans?

Don't worry, we'll sort them out with one cannon shot when the time comes!

In the eyes of the big shots, drug traffickers were just too low, with no real challenge, they didn't strike because they weren't provoked.

That's all.

So the DEA's requests didn't matter.

"We have to wipe out these people!" Jonathan Pannier, gritting his teeth, "This is a complete provocation against us!"

"We need your help."

Victor raised an eyebrow, "What do you need me to do? That's in Colombia, many things aren't convenient. "

You certainly can't expect me to bombard the courthouse, can you?