Working as a police officer in Mexico

José Herrera Dutt is busy!

Busy collecting money.

He has business dealings with the Gulf Group, Juarez and Sinaloa.

As the bailiff commander of Baja California, he has stayed in this position for a long time, all thanks to two words: interesting!

When Brother Benjamin was in Tijuana, he provided them with information on police anti-drug operations, which indirectly or directly led to the sacrifice of many colleagues.

But his interests in Baja California were so deep that even the governor Rafael Marquez, who died in the "toilet", had to make concessions to him to a certain extent.

In his mansion, after he had just learned about life with several female models, he was lying on the bed smoking a cigarette when he heard a phone call.

I saw four or five phones on the bedside table.

The red ones are Juarez, the white ones are Sinaloa, the black ones are the Gulf Group, and the other colors are unimportant.

The sound is white.

He took it over and said enthusiastically, "Hi, good evening, sir!"

"Help us do something." Alfredo, the fourth of the Beltran Leyva brothers on the opposite side, muttered, "Zambada was caught by Victor."

The cigarette in Jose Herrera Dut's mouth suddenly seemed to be stuck in his throat, and he couldn't help coughing in discomfort, "What?!"

His voice was so loud that the female models who were playing with each other turned their heads and looked over. He kicked their butts with his toes and waved them away.

After the female model walked away, Dutt threw the cigarette on the ground and sat upright, "You want me to help him fish it out?"

There was silence on the other side, "Kill him!"

Dutt raised his eyebrows and listened to Alfredo's quote, "$600,000!"

"He is your number two man in Sinaloa. This price is inappropriate." He thought about it and immediately figured out what Guzman wanted, so he couldn't help but increase the price.

A typical person who will do anything for money.

"Two million US dollars!" Dutt shouted the price himself.

"Deal, but you must do it beautifully." Alfredo said without even pausing, as if he didn't care about the money at all.

MD!

Call less!

Dutt couldn't help but regret it, but if he dared to counteroffer now, he would be beaten to death if he failed to make an accurate offer.

"Don't worry, don't you worry that I'm doing a good job?"

After hanging up the phone, Dutt sat on the bed and started thinking about how to kill Zambada.

Victor…

Dutt has never seen him, but he is said to be very fierce. The drug dealer he killed on Guadalupe Island screamed, he was quite capable of beating him down, and he also had some people under his command.

"But in Mexicali, just being able to fight is not enough."

He stuffed the cigarette into the ashtray.

Being able to fight is of no use, you have to pay attention to your connections when you come out!

I will take the bailiff to see this Victor tomorrow. Can he still kill me?

…

The sun is shining slightly in the sky.

Rarely good weather.

Victor didn't sleep all night last night. The first team and the second team successfully took over the police station and city hall, but they encountered resistance from drug dealers.

Two or three "blowpipe" surface-to-air missiles went down.

The drug dealers shut up.

The policemen at the police station also shut up.

"Put me down...put me down!" On the flagpole in the middle of the TV station, there were four drug dealers hanging on the front, back and left.

Victor didn't have time to find a doctor for them. If he could carry them, he would carry them. If he couldn't carry them, he would die. Zambada's status was different, so he had to give others a little "respect". After all, if he was killed, who would be shot?

Victor was in the temporary office. When he felt tired, he stood up, made a cup of coffee, and listened to the screams outside. It was a different kind of "military" fun.

As soon as he took a sip of coffee and focused his eyes, he saw a dozen cars suddenly appearing outside the gate, all belonging to government agencies.

It seems that these people finally understand that they have come to pay homage to the dock.

"Boss." Casare knocked on the door and came in. "Mexicali bailiffs and law enforcement officials are here."

"Let them in."

"When we come to Mexicali, we have to meet the local snake, right?"

Casare looked around, first looking at the table. There should be no ashtray. He was relieved when he saw that the ashtray was just a small teacup.

In front of the TV station.

Jose Herrera Dutt was blocked outside.

The policeman guarding the door refused to let him go despite his persuasive lies.

This also made him a little annoyed, but as a person with status, he could only keep silent.

Casare came out and glanced at them, "Who among you is the most powerful?"

This first sentence made people confused. Look at each other, and I look at you.

"I am José Herrera Duterte, Commander of the Baja California Marshals."

"I am the head of the inspection department..."

"I…"

Four people stood up. Casare glanced at them and nodded, "You guys come in with me. The others will go to the side room to rest first."

This statement immediately caused an uproar among everyone.

"No, we all came together, why did we meet them? Why?"

"Yes, we also want to see Mr. Victor."

Casare looked at them coldly, stretched out his finger, and the police officer behind him raised his gun. The group seemed to say hello and closed their mouths at the same time.

"Who are you? Tell the police dog at the door if you have anything to do. It will report it then! If you mess around again, you will be killed!" Casare pointed to a Neapolitan Mastiff not far away.

This was also found by Boss Victor "for someone".

In fact, it is exchanged.

Dogs don’t count for people.

It's just that they are of little use in modern warfare. Victor exchanged a dozen of them for use on Guadalupe Island to catch ordinary criminals. They are also good for fighting public security wars. At this time, they were brought out to show "them".

Of course, it would be even better if there was a dog to deal with the drug dealers!

Jose Herrera Dut took a deep breath, his heart sinking slightly. He planned to use his connections in the capital Mexicali to put some "pressure" on Victor, but now he was the only one left, and it was noisy. You may not be able to quarrel with the other party.

He looked at several other department heads, and then followed Casare. The drug dealer hanging on the flagpole screamed repeatedly. Some people even saw him and clearly recognized him, "Dute! Save me, save me. ah!"

Casare stopped and looked back at him, "Do you know him, sir?"

Dutt shook his head quickly, "I don't know him."

"It's best that Mr. Victor hates evil and hates evil. He can't tolerate sand."

A group of people walked into the office.

Victor glanced at him casually and sighed, "Pull him out and shoot him."

"????"

No matter who it was, everyone was confused.

But the police officers outside reacted quickly and dragged them out directly!

"No! You can't do this, Victor, I am the commander of the judicial police, I am the superintendent, I am the chief, you are killing innocent people indiscriminately!" Dut shouted with a ferocious expression.

Are you going to kill me without saying anything?

"I don't accept it!"

Victor waved his hand, "With a shotgun!"

He didn't want to waste his words on these people.

At a glance just now, you can see that these guys are all good drug dealers, but Dutt is even worse. He directly killed two mayoral candidates and was also involved in human smuggling.

This is not smuggling in the sense of the word, but trafficking!

The United Nations published a survey report in 2020 that there are approximately 50 million slaves in the world, which means that these people have been bought to use as venting tools or as some low-level workers.

That's it!

In the eyes of Uncle Victor, there is no room for crime!

The other few are not good either, smuggling and selling drugs, and harboring drug dealers.

"CNMD! Victor, you don't have to die well, you don't have to die well!" Dut had a bad mouth.

"He shot three times!" Victor's light voice came from inside.

Several people were pulled into the courtyard downstairs and tied directly to the steps of the flag, with drug dealers hanging above it.

Dutt was still cursing, "I am the Marshal Commander, I am the Marshal Commander!"

An EDM police officer put a Winchester Defender 1300 shotgun into his mouth and fired decisively!

jump!

It's gone...it means the head is gone.

Blood splattered on others nearby.

"Ahhhh!!!" the grown men screamed.

The EDM police officer wiped the blood from his face and shot Dutt's body two more times in the chest. Chief Victor said to shoot you three times, never four.

However, using a shotgun to play Mozambique shooting is... the first time I have heard of it.

"I was wrong, I was wrong, please forgive me."

The remaining two put their guns to their chests and pulled the triggers.

My heart was broken directly.

The execution was painless.

These people are drug dealers!

Just wearing the skin of a police officer.

Victor will not allow anyone to trample on this profession.

The drug dealers above were scared to death, really scared to death.

It dripped down.

That's what happens with drugs.

Casare glanced at the hut not far away, and sure enough he saw the people who followed Dutt and the others looking at them in horror.

He ran upstairs in confusion and reported the matter to Victor, "Boss, do you want to kill them all!"

"Who's going to get the job? Are you going?"

Victor looked at the other person and said, "Don't be too violent. Can you learn from me about self-cultivation?"

Casare: "???"

You are a caliber person, but you still want to cultivate your health?

"Find a place to lock them up first. Then they will be interrogated carefully and all those who cooperate with drug traffickers will be killed."

In Victor's eyes.

His world is black and white, color?

That means you pooped too much and need to be treated by Victor.

If a drug dealer is a black man, he must die!

forgive?

impossible!

Mr. Victor is justice walking in the world!

He stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the drug dealers who had fallen on the flagpole, with disgust in his eyes. "I can't even control my own urine. Is this hopeless?"

Casare understood immediately.

"Then before the TV speech, to cheer up the people, drag these people out and kill them all."

"Let everyone see what happens to drug dealers."

"Boss, what kind of gun do you want to use?"

Casare discovered that Victor would choose different methods to execute drug dealers every day because he was in a bad mood.

"What methods do drug dealers usually use?"

"Beheading, quartering, burning..." Casare mentioned more than a dozen methods in one breath, all of which were horrific.

Victor held out his hand to signal him to stop.

"Then let's..."

"Just use RPG!"

…