Working as a police officer in Mexico

Chapter 112 Their Names Should Be Sung!

Carlos violently dragged the middle-aged man out by his hair, the latter desperately struggling on the ground, his drunkenness long scared away.

"Save me! Save me!"

The old man frantically looked around for someone to help, but no one wanted to invite trouble onto themselves.

"Take people to search his house, if he can raise such a brazen son, he must also be accustomed to arrogance in his daily life."

Victor glanced over, the man's family owned a logistics company and had once been senior partners with the Tijuana drug syndicate.

I hadn't even settled scores with the father, and the son had jumped out on his own initiative.

Not to kill you, would I still be Victor?

Casare nodded his head.

Victor looked at Milia and her brother, took a towel from a waiter, and personally wiped their faces, crouching down and gently saying, "Don't worry, no one will be able to bully you."

"Tha-thank you!"

The two children, bereft of adult protection, were like dust floating in the air, in a world that was civil but also truly cruel!

Could people like them really protect themselves?

Too many cases of human smuggling, organ trafficking, and even more disgusting dealings stemmed from these orphans.

Victor patted their heads, stood up, and clapped his hands.

Everyone fell silent, set down their utensils, and watched him speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am honored to introduce to you these two, Milia and Ruskinia. Perhaps you have heard of their surname Gorostiza. Their entire family has sacrificed a total of 17 people for the cause of Mexico, no! 18 people!"

"Their beloved brother, Nikolaos Gorostiza, died heroically in battle at the young age of 23!"

"He fell on the front lines of Mexico's anti-drug campaign."

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Milia bit her lip, trying not to let her tears fall, while her brother cried out loud.

"Nikolaos Gorostiza is not the only one; there are many like him. They love Mexico, the land that nurtured them, and they are willing to sacrifice for it. They have departed from this world, but they left as heroes, unwavering and undaunted. Their names will forever be etched in the honorable record of Mexico's anti-drug history."

Victor spoke with emotion, "But, I will not allow any person or organization to trample or insult their relatives. This is a mockery of Mexican society!"

"My officers and I will provide shelter for the families of all who have sacrificed themselves for Mexico. Orphans and the elderly will be provided for free, and over ten welfare homes will be established in Mexicali. Any external harm they suffer is the greatest hostility towards me, Victor!"

"In the cause of justice, someone always falls. We lift their flag high, shout their names, and charge forward. Mexicans never fear sacrifice!"

Thunderous applause echoed throughout the hotel.

The gentlemen and ladies, afraid of his influence, displayed various expressions; some even exchanged looks, their eyes filled with indescribable meanings.

However, the family members of the fallen military and police were crying.

Victor hugged and consoled them, surrounded at the center.

At that moment, he had a lot of people standing behind him!

"He really can act." At a table near the corner, a young man with a watch worth tens of thousands of dollars on his wrist scoffed to his companion.

But he was clapping earnestly with his hands.

"Does he want to be the President of Mexico?" someone asked with a sneer. Everyone wasn't a fool; Victor's TV speeches about anti-drugs, treating martyrs well, and equality for all—weren't these concepts just to appeal to certain people?

"Him?" The young man who spoke first laughed disdainfully, possibly with a hint of jealousy, "Just a lucky cop."

"Let him be arrogant for a bit — his days are numbered."

"Do you have some news?"

The young man lowered his voice, "He wiped out Tijuana; the whole Baja California is under his control. Do you think the Colombians will agree to that?"

"Each year, they have 15% of their goods shipped by sea from Mexicali Port into California, USA, and there's over two billion dollars in profit involved. Pablo's Medellin Cartel won't let him off easily."

The words had some logic to them, but on second thought, they were nonsense.

The Medellin would have to cross through Panama, Costa Rica, Salvador, Guatemala, and other countries to get here.

"Sending a small team over here, what's the use of that?"

"It would be more believable to trust in Duke Victor descending south with his Anti-Drug Force."

The young man's words made his companions nod subconsciously, inflating his vanity, "Just wait and see, his doom is imminent!"

After the banquet, Victor had arranged for officers to escort the family members of the officers to the hotel where they were to stay.

Who could guarantee there were no drug traffickers left in Mexicali?

The collusion was too deep.

Even the stray dogs on the street could be the eyes and ears of the drug traffickers.

Victor washed his face and found Alejandro in the room, smoking a cigarette.

"I can't stay in Mexicali much longer."

Alejandro raised an eyebrow, nodded, and said with a smile, "I thought you were going to be stationed here, this is much better than the island."

"I am still the Director of the police station on Guadalupe Island, but I think you can move the security department here now. The Counter-Terrorism Mobile Unit (EDTV) should also be deployed here, and I will continue sending officers to 'study and train' here in turns."

"There are still plenty of troops in Mexicali that could be retrained. Provide enough salaries, improve their benefits, and soon, Mexicali will be under our control."

Victor had worked hard to take over, how could he just give it up?

At worst, he could control things from behind the scenes.

Alejandro nodded, "On the path to drug enforcement, I think we need more like-minded people to join us!"

"Especially in the public eye."

"Then call on them to serve in Mexicali, and after we take back all of Baja California, we can deploy these people to serve as local officials."

"With a population of 2 million, Mexicali is not easy to manage," Alejandro exclaimed.

"Hard to manage? We've thrown out all the hotheads, now we're just dealing with small fries. You can employ mass tactics, encouraging mutual surveillance. Offer material rewards for informants; many will do it for the money."

"If necessary, you can even recruit some people in the streets or rural areas to form militia self-defense groups. We will supply them with weapons and ammunition, but control must be strict, forbidding private ownership. Add some subsidies, and they will become the peripheral members of our drug cleansing system."

Victor was virtually transferring all the ideas in his head.

Actually, around the year 2010, large-scale militia organizations would emerge in Mexico because they didn't trust the government, and groups like the Jalisco New Generation and Los Zetas were even more brutal.

Mexican drug gangs would extort money from almost any legal or illegal enterprise, sometimes attacking or burning down ranches, farms, or stores that refused to pay. Many people would rise in resistance, but they would be slaughtered for it!

So they formed their own defense organizations, the so-called militias.

Buying their own weapons, protecting their homes, and then... forming new drug gangs, since buying supplies without money meant having to join the drug trade.

But Victor wanted to keep the militias within a controllable range, which would be different.

Ah!

This outfit, add a bit of yellow when appropriate.

Meanwhile, on the Hummer heading to the hotel,

Carlos tenderly stroked Milia's hair. She looked out the window into the distance, while her little brother in the back seat held chocolate, the sweetness temporarily making him forget the pain of losing his brother.

"Brother Carlos."

Suddenly, Milia turned around, her eyes looking at him, crying, "Can you... adopt us?"

"I can wash clothes, I can mop floors, and I can cook."

Carlos opened his mouth halfway, softened by her hopeful gaze, "Following me, you may have to endure hardship."

Milia shook her head, "I'm not afraid of hardship."

Carlos sighed and, smiling, hugged them, "Okay, then from now on, follow me, and I'll be your brother."

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