Chapter 187 Mr. Guzman, Where Are You? Victor Is so Fierce!

Chapter 187 Mr. Guzman, where are you! Victor... so fierce!

In a forest four or five kilometers away from the steel plant.

There is a dilapidated hut covered with dust and spider webs. The rat poked its head out and looked at the man in the house with his hands and feet tied and wearing a blindfold. It was confused. After squeaking twice, it bravely crawled towards a man.

"Oh! Shit! Damn it! Damn it!" The man shuddered, twisted his body hard, and made a strange cry. The sound was very abrupt in the depressing atmosphere and scared the others.

"Bogdan? Bogdan, what's wrong with you!"

"What are you screaming about! Shut up! Idiot, do you want the drug dealers to kill us?"

These people were all "kidnapped" reporters.

"Something...something got into my crotch! Hurry...hurry up and save me." The photographer named Bogdan even cried.

As a man...

You can lose face, money, and life, but you can't damage your life.

Hearing his screams, all the male reporters subconsciously pulled up their sphincters.

"Just bear with it... it will pass!"

Bogdan cursed, "Bear with your mother! ###%*&*% x-on:%", and the rest of the curse was in local slang, too dirty.

Even Colonel Ka had to say, "Yoshi" after hearing it.

Bang, bang, bang...

A burst of gunfire suddenly rang out, and Bogdan's mouth suddenly became quiet as if the power button was pressed.

The only thing that can make people shut up is weapons!

Reason?

Only people with weapons can talk about reason.

Look at the hundreds of successful people in suits and ties sitting in that shabby house. Then, when those five people start talking, even if it's a fart, the others have to inhale it hard, and then say, "Big brother is right!"

The rat in Bogdan's crotch also heard the gunshot, and it tensed up and ran out of his trouser legs, running away with its tail between its legs.

Bang!

The wooden door was kicked open by someone from the outside, and the reporters who were tied up with their eyes quickly shrank back.

"Mexican Drug Enforcement Administration Anti-Terrorism Team!"

The person who broke in shouted.

This is just like the FBI in the movie, which actually serves to deter and remind the other party to avoid accidental shooting.

Drug Enforcement Administration?

"Hurry up and save us! We are reporters!" Bogdan jumped up again. After someone took off his blindfold, he looked at the fully armed anti-terrorist team in front of him and complained, "Oh, damn! You are finally here, Fuck! Why are there drug dealers in the back!"

"This world is just not safe." Commander Marcus Phoenix shrugged and waved his hand, "Retreat, retreat!"

"Where are our things?" a reporter asked.

"We are the police force, not philanthropists. We received news that there is a group of drug dealers here, and our mission is to eliminate them."

Marcus Phoenix looked at his watch and frowned, "If you don't want to retreat, then you can stay."

When the reporters heard this, they hurriedly got in the car and left.

Camera?

MD, I have to ask my boss for mental damages when I go back!

Fuck!

I will never come to this damn place in Mexico again.

Bogdan sat in the police car and looked outside. He suddenly felt that something was wrong. After the car drove away, he suddenly thought.

Why is there no body on the ground of the drug dealer?

Bogdan was very smart. He sensed something was wrong. He glanced at the policeman sitting in front of him. A bold idea went through his mind. Suddenly, he saw a pair of eyes staring at him in the rearview mirror.

The two people's eyes met.

Marcus Phoenix's eyes seemed to be able to eat a person.

Bogdan lowered his head quickly.

Oh my god! It was so scary.

That drug dealer... came too strangely. This person looked more like a drug dealer than a drug dealer.

"What's wrong with you?" A fellow reporter saw him like this and asked.

"No... It's okay. It hurts." Bogdan stammered and squeezed out two sentences.

Marcus Phoenix, who was sitting in front, smiled when he heard it.

There is no shortage of smart people in this world.

The identity of a reporter is very sensitive, but there are also people who died in Mexico. If you don't listen, you will be shot.

Victor is relatively "merciful". At least he didn't really kill them. He just didn't want them to be nosy. In other hot spots, a thermobaric bomb took them all away directly.

At worst, we can apologize later.

No organization will really start a war for civilians!

Meanwhile, in the capital Hermosillo.

The drug dealers who couldn't contact Alfredo panicked!

The phone couldn't be reached!

The pager couldn't be reached either.

All the people sent to the steel plant disappeared, as if they had disappeared out of thin air.

"Gone! Gone! Alfredo must have run away." In the meeting room of the city hall, a drug dealer with a tattoo on his face said gloomily.

His logo was "Juarez".

"Impossible! Don't fart, we Sinaloa can't be deserters."

"Then tell me, where is he? Why can't we contact him?"

"Will he... die?" Someone next to him said suddenly, and everyone fell silent.

The drug dealers in Sinaloa turned their heads and glared at each other!

"What are you talking about! You MD, your boss is dead."

The scolded drug dealer didn't dare to talk back.

"There are more than 1,600 drug dealers in the steel plant, including about 400 people who are unwilling to leave, making up 2,000 people. With so many people, even if you shoot pigs on the ground, you may not be able to kill them all. What does Victor rely on? Does he drop a nuclear bomb? Are you guys stupid because of him? The signal must be bad and you can't contact him."

Just the huge explosion yesterday...

Even if you say you dropped a nuclear bomb, the drug dealers will believe it!

Anyway, there shouldn't be many people who were hit by the nuclear bomb and are still alive, right?

Just when the people inside were arguing, the door was suddenly opened, and a Los Zetas member with "KY" tattooed on his neck looked solemn.

"Mr. Alfredo... is dead!"

…

"Listen, members of the resistance and drug dealers in Hermosillo. The steel mill has been captured by the anti-drug forces. Alfredo Beltran Leyva, the leader of the Sinaloa drug cartel, has been killed. Please surrender immediately! Otherwise, he will be killed without mercy!"

"The Mexican Anti-Drug Agency warns the armed personnel in the city to lay down their weapons and surrender. If they continue to walk with the drug dealers, they will only die."

"Also remind ordinary people to hide at home and wait for the liberation of Hermosillo!"

A Bell 212 helicopter was flying over the city, and the loudspeaker was shouting loudly.

There was also a cage hanging below, with Alfredo's head in it, and it was displayed to the whole city. In order to prevent the head from shaking, his head was clamped with wooden boards on both sides.

Hmm...his face is much smaller.

The people below raised their heads in astonishment. They couldn't see clearly, and some people didn't even know who Alfredo was.

But they knew that the drug dealers in the steel mill were gone!

Sonora is close to Sinaloa. If you hang out with bad students, what good will you achieve? Most adult males are almost all involved in drugs. There are more than 700 DM plantations in the 180,000 square kilometers of land in the state, and there are even more laboratories for new drugs.

If it weren't for the fear of others' gossip, Victor would have humanely destroyed you all.

Mexico can't use at least the past three generations.

They were destroyed by drugs. Even if Victor wanted to govern the place, he couldn't use them, otherwise it wouldn't take long for all his efforts to go to waste.

Therefore, the political situation in Lower California is that drug users and drug dealers can't be used as civil servants, and the political review is extremely strict.

"Any behavior that hinders the anti-drug forces is illegal!"

"Shoot him down! Shoot him down!" The exasperated drug traffickers cursed, and the anti-aircraft machine guns on the rooftop aimed at the Bell 212 in the air.

But the pilot, who had already noticed something was wrong, raised the flight altitude and dropped a series of jamming bombs, just like pulling out a large pile of shit under his buttocks, and it was very thin, and he went away.

Leaving behind a pile of chicken feathers, and the internal turmoil began.

"Mr. Alfredo is dead, what should we do? Who will command us?"

"Where is Guzman? Where is Guzman!"

"Why do you want us to fight for our lives in Juarez on the territory of your Sinaloa Group? No! No!"

This is the shortcoming of the "mob". When encountering difficulties, they have to shrink their heads and tails, and even get angry and almost start fighting!

"Hey, hey, hey, put down your guns!"

A group of people from the Spanish intelligence department also heard the broadcast and looked at each other.

"Alfredo is dead? It's too sudden! I think it is definitely related to the two explosions." Four Eyes shouted.

Marcelinho yawned, "OK, OK, then the organization sends you to ask Victor, it's best to catch him and torture him severely, I have already reported for leave."

"Hey!" Four Eyes waved his hand in dissatisfaction, and he hated the look of this superior more and more, "You are the leader of the branch, do you want us to watch the scenery here every day? If we let Victor really wipe out the drug dealers, a clean and united Mexico is not in our interests."

"We must continue to radiate the glory of Spain here!"

This sounded awkwardly.

"The glory of Spain should be in the king's crotch, not in our body. Maybe we should manage his lower body, otherwise, we will make a fool of ourselves in the world when the time comes." Marcelinho spread his hands.

What glory of Spain.

I'm from Catalonia, not Spain, what the hell does it have to do with me?

"You idiot!" Four Eyes was obviously a royalist, and he was so angry when he heard this that he wanted to stand up and fight him one-on-one.

"I am the three-time Spanish free-fighting champion. Are you sure you want to beat me up?"

The bespectacled man was quiet when he heard this, his face flushed, "This is your job!"

"With such a small amount of money, I want to go into the adult entertainment industry to make movies."

Marcelinho opened his hands, "With such a small amount of money, you want me to risk my life? Okay, from today on, you are the head of the branch. You have the final say in the future. Don't bother me."

If it weren't for the money for the bank mortgage, who would come out to work.

"I must complain to the boss about you!" the bespectacled man pointed at him and shouted.

"Thank you, remember to ask him to transfer last year's bonus to the card."

Marcelinho spread his hands and didn't care.

It seems that I have to change jobs.

I don't know...if Victor needs anyone.

……