Chapter 3: The Terror of the Third Prison Area

"He is very arrogant now! Sir, I even feel that he is more arrogant than the drug dealers I have ever seen. You didn't see it just now, he fired a gun! He fired a gun in the Plateau Prison!"

In the warden's office.

Haggis Baird's face flushed, he waved his arms, and he seemed very emotional. He supported himself on the table with both hands and stared at Webster. "I even suspect that he was possessed by the devil. This is not like him at all!" Webster held a cigarette in his mouth, "Devil? Then you have to go to the Vatican to find a priest, but are you sure there are no little boys here? Will they come?" Haggis Baird's mouth twitched, "Sir, this is not funny at all." He paused, breathing slightly faster, "You promised me to help kill him!" "My family gave you 20,000 US dollars!" Webster raised his eyelids slightly, "He applied to me to go to the third prison area." This news made Baird confused, and two "???" flashed in his brain. Dogs don't even go to the third prison area. Although the big guys are tied up by "physics", their personalities are very strange. You don't know which words or actions will suddenly annoy them. Drug dealers are inhumane! In Mexico, if you offend the president, you will be judged by law. But if you offend drug dealers, you will understand what it means to live a life worse than death! From the mayor to the villagers, as long as you anger them, your head will appear in Mexico City tomorrow, your arms will appear in San Diego City, and your butt will appear in Tijuana. Don't doubt it, they have the ability to do it. "He...he..." Baird didn't know what to say. "You inform him to go to work in the third prison area tomorrow." Webster took out a transfer order from the drawer and threw it in front of Baird, leaning back with his hands crossed on his stomach, "For the sake of his dead father, I agree to his request." "How long he can live depends on God's will." Baird looked at the transfer order in his hand and always felt that it was not direct enough. There was no need for such small actions in Mexico. They were the Gulf Group, the oldest criminal organization. Aren't they just a small prison guard? Wouldn't it be enough to find a few people to kill him? Killing police officers is too common in this country. "I know what you are thinking. If you have the ability, you can find someone outside to kill him, but if we are in prison, we can only follow the rules. You can't let a drug dealer rush into the prison guard dormitory with a gun and kill him, right? This is a provocation. Last time, in order to make the people in Tijuana and Juarez fight, many people died. It cost a lot to settle this matter. The people above are a little dissatisfied with me. I have to hide my head recently." Webster is a cunning old man. That football game was actually a deliberate murder against the two organizations! At that time, a small leader nicknamed "Joker" Gaglido died in Tijuana. He was the illegitimate son of Benjamin, the leader of the Tijuana Group, and was quite popular. This death directly caused the two major groups outside to go to war! Sinaloa, one of the three giants, was also forced to join the battlefield. The Gulf Group benefited a lot. In this football game, the Gulf Group gave 5 million US dollars to the head of the preventive police department. All the purposes are for profit. As long as the benefits are enough, God can be sold. Jesus should have been clearly marked. Baird was not very satisfied with Webster's arrangement, but what could he do? No matter which organization he was in, the other party's rank was higher than his. He saluted silently and walked out of the office.

Standing at the door, he began to mutter a few words, put the transfer order under his arm, and walked to Office No. 2 of the Second Prison Area, where Casare was sitting, making coffee, "Where is Victor?"

"Toilet." Casare pointed to the bathroom in the office. As soon as he finished speaking, he saw Victor coming out with the water stains on his hands.

"Victor, Sergeant Baird is looking for you." Fatty Casare shouted at him and signaled with his eyes.

"Your transfer order has arrived. The warden agreed to transfer you to the third prison area as deputy warden. Congratulations, man." Baird handed him the transfer order with a fake smile, "I hope you can work in your new position for a long time."

"Oh?" Victor took the transfer order and saw the seal on it. He was relieved. The first step of the plan was completed. It seemed that he didn't hear the "curse" in the other party's tone. He smiled and thanked him.

Baird was in a dilemma, and left with a dark face.

He did not forget to close the door heavily.

With a bang, the dust fell.

As soon as Baird left, Casare, who was anxious beside him, couldn't wait to speak, "Victor, you are going to the third prison area? That... that place is very dangerous, don't you know? Nine prison guards died in the first half of the year alone. Although they died outside the prison, it was obviously revenge by those drug dealers."

"I heard that a poor guy was kidnapped along with his wife and daughter during his vacation because he did not wash the feet of a drug dealer. Three days later, he was found dead in the woods, and there was not a single piece of good meat on his body."

"There is also a Quim Luca, you know him, he is very handsome, he is my classmate, when he was in the third prison area, he was spotted by a homosexual drug dealer, but he refused, and later... his genitals were cut off and hung on the street!"

Casare was shaking as he spoke, and his pupils were even dilated.

Obviously, the drug dealers also left an indelible shadow in the heart of Casare, a policeman.

Snap!

A hand pressed on Casare's shoulder, "What are you afraid of?"

Casare raised his head and met Victor's eyes.

"You are afraid of nothing but death, but why can't you let them die? In this fucked-up society, words are the most useless. The only thing that can speak for you is weapons. If the drug dealer has a pistol in his hand and you have an AK, who do you think should be afraid?"

"My dad used to tell me that as a man, you must have a sense of justice, and young people must be aggressive and understand that morality is the bottom line of being a man. What happened? He was beaten to death. I understand that at any time, you have to climb up, and no one can listen to what the minions say."

"Why did you become a policeman?"

"For..." Casare hesitated.

"Don't tell me that you are doing this for some bullshit justice. Don't be too rigid in your life. Absolute justice will never end well. You have to be ruthless. In the cafeteria, if I didn't fire that shot, do you think I could stand? Those bastards, are they afraid of the law? They are afraid of bullets!" Victor patted Casare's face, "If he bullies you, you resist. If you can't resist, you find someone to take the blame. Drug dealers are also people. They are afraid of death. I don't believe that a bullet can be stuffed into his mouth." Although he said so, how can the fear of being ruled by drug dealers for decades be so easy to dissipate? "Don't worry, in Mexico, I will live longer than God." "After get off work, go for a drink in the evening? I'll treat you." Victor said with a smile. ... The working hours of the prison are from 9 to 5. No overtime is required. Because the plateau prison is about 50 kilometers away from the city, many police officers live in dormitories, but not far from the prison, a "night market" will provide a lot of needs. Victor has no interest in street prostitutes. He is mainly afraid that they will become AIDS warriors. If so, he will regret it. If he wants to play, he should play with Hollywood stars.

They are all prostitutes. At most, he can pay more.

Casare, on the other hand, was a bit indifferent. He looked her up and down and said, "There are two of us."

The lady glanced at Victor and said, "Two people need to pay extra."

"How much?"

"10 pesos per person, and the second one is half price."

Casare's eyes lit up when he heard it. He elbowed Victor and lowered his voice, "Victor..."

"No, I'm not interested. If you want to play, you can do it yourself, but I think you have to take protective measures."

Fat Casare was struggling. This woman just happened to be in his aesthetic taste, but Victor was not interested. He couldn't just abandon his brother. Just when he was about to wave his hand to refuse, he heard Victor say, "You do it first. I have something to do. When I'm done, I'll meet you at the open-air bar."

As he said that, he took out 20 pesos and handed it to the girl, "Take good care of my brother."

He patted Casare on the shoulder and walked not far away.

Casare was confused. He looked in the direction he was walking and saw a familiar figure. It seemed to be... Haggis Baird?

"Sir!" The girl pushed him and took his hand very actively, pulling him into the tent behind him.

Victor did see an acquaintance. In his mind, Haggis Baird's ugly face was second only to Franklin. The latter's greatest use was that he was US dollars.

This guy followed a person who looked difficult to get along with into a remote RV. It was not easy for Victor to know the identity of this person?

Blinked his right eye.

All the information popped out.

"Mill Baird.

Male!

Born in the Baird criminal family in Chihuahua in 1970.

Nickname: "Family Breeder"

At the age of 11, he robbed a French tourist with his accomplices and killed and dismembered her. At the age of 12, he joined the family's drug trafficking industry and used human bodies to traffic at the US-Mexico border. At the age of 14, he shot and killed three Chihuahua police officers and was listed as the 67th most wanted criminal in Chihuahua with a reward of 6,000 pesos. At the age of 17, he tortured and killed a Chihuahua anti-drug councilor and dumped his body.

Recent focus: The family assigned him to kill his opponent, and he was imprisoned in the second prison area of ​​the Plateau Prison. The old-school LOS Chihuahua head, Michael Hamirez, nicknamed "Madman".

Crime points: 900 points.

It turned out that someone from the "mother's family" came. No wonder Haggis, who was originally hungry, didn't come out. Go find a woman.

He used to be with his team, but now...

He's alone? !

Victor's eyes lit up instantly.

He touched his waist, but he didn't bring his weapon.

Prisons don't allow guns to be taken out when not working. In Mexico, except for the government departments, everything else is loose.

Maybe it's to provide convenience for criminals to retaliate.

But...

Victor still has 1,000 points from killing Hoyle in prison.

Enough to exchange for a suitable weapon.

After he suffered a loss once, he didn't want to leave the danger behind. Since Haggis is alone, kill him!

Anyway, kill him and throw him outside. Who the hell knows that it was him who did it?

He looked around, put his hands in his pockets, walked to the back of the RV as if nothing had happened, and eavesdropped with his ears tilted.

"What? You want me to kill Michael Hamirez?" Haggis's voice.

"This is a family mission." Mil Baird's voice was hoarse, as if his vocal cords were injured.

Haggis was silent for a moment.

"No problem, but I want you to help me kill someone. He's in the way and will hinder my promotion in the highland prison."

"Who?"

"Victor Carlos Vieri."

"No problem, he'll die outside soon."

Leaning against the RV, Victor's murderous intent grew stronger and stronger.

You want to kill me, then I'll kill you first!

Blinking, a redemption window appeared in front of him.

Balance: 1000.

Used 40 points to exchange for two Russian-made anti-1 (F-1) grenades!

Blow you to death, damn it!