Working as a police officer in Mexico

Chapter 50 We bless Mexico!

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Hearing Victor's order, Harrison's mouth hung open immediately.

"Warden, that's...that's too many people."

Victor turned his head sharply, staring at him, "Even a large number of mongrels are still mongrels, they are incapable of creating any more value, what we have to do now is sweep this disobedient trash into the pile of garbage."

"Those who have made mistakes must accept their punishment."

Victor's expression was very calm, even leisurely enough to take a cigarette from the desk and start smoking, "Even children know this."

Harrison was under great pressure, even with Victor's back to him, the back of his head seemed to have a pair of eyes staring at him as he swallowed hard.

Shit!

Better them dead than myself in trouble.

Harrison picked up the walkie-talkie he carried with him and passed down Victor's order.

While the riot was happening below, there were already members of the Mexican Lion (EDM) on the surrounding high walls.

Victor was rather "timid" since living in the prison for so long, after all, so he took certain precautions, for fear that some blind thief would come sneaking over at night.

Therefore, he had arranged a few "little toys" around the high walls.

They set up Degtyaryov Shpagin SG-43 machine guns, and though they were antiquated, they were the pioneers of "trench warfare".

The most important point was that these World War II relics were cheap, and it had only been a little over forty years since the war.

As far as we know, no human has been able to withstand a 7.62mm caliber, right?

The members of EDM who received the orders resolutely pulled the triggers!

Have you ever seen...

...the harvesting of wheat?

The rioting prisoners who were initially shouting fell to the ground in an instant, and the lieutenants who grabbed weapons retaliated by raising their guns, only to be shot until their bodies were riddled like sieves.

A stray bullet penetrated a prisoner's eyeball, exploding through the back of the skull with a "Pia!" and his brain matter splattered out like tofu pudding.

Don't think of drug traffickers as too vicious.

Their viciousness is only aimed at the weaker ones!

As long as there's someone stronger than them, they are as meek as lambs.

"Run! Run for it!"

"Open the gate, let me out!"

"I surrender! I surrender!"

The drug traffickers cried...

They yelled desperately with tears and snot streaming down their faces.

Do they regret it?

No, they're just afraid of death.

After the gunfire stopped, no one was standing below anymore, and even if there were screams, they were weak. The closed prison iron gates were then opened, and the TPz-1 "Fox" armored personnel carrier drove in.

It rolled directly over the fallen drug lords.

You could hear...

...the sound of bones being ground together under pressure.

Content from m-vl|em|p,yr

And then those Kennedy Heisenbergs, along with the members of EDM, began to roll call the surviving prisoners.

Harrison stood by Victor, watching it all unfold, and even he felt a bit queasy.

"Burn the dead and take them out, the newly vacant cells will be filled soon enough; I'll contact Alejandro to bring in another group. The sewing machines can't stop, and the prisoners have been eating too well lately. The rest will have one less meal a day, and work hours extended to 18. Only when they are idle do they harbor foolish thoughts."

Victor looked at him, "I remember the prison cameras are all broken today, right?"

Casare entered in the midst of this and shivered involuntarily when he heard this.

Was this an attempt to destroy all evidence?

Of course, you'd have to burn the bodies directly. So many dead, there hasn't been such a horrific scene in the world in years, has there?

Even though they are drug traffickers, even though they deserved to die, but...

Don't forget that many so-called human rights organizations will make a fuss.

They will shout everywhere, "Aren't the lives of criminals also human lives?"

And then the situation will grow bigger and bigger, and the Mexican Government, being so weak and ineffective, won't be able to clean up Victor's mess.

But if you dispose of the bodies and handle the aftermath properly, at worst they will say there was a prison riot, and all the prisoners not on the roster have run away.

A shooting incident?

Where?

Even if there are jail guards or prisoners as so-called "eye-witnesses", without catching someone in the act, it's very hard to prove it was me.

Do they have my fingerprints on their bodies?

Got the nerve to make them stand up and say who killed them?

```

In Mexico, there's always one rule to follow: If you didn't see the crime, it isn't a crime. And if you did...kill the witness.

Casare heard this and responded swiftly, "Yes, all the surveillance today has failed, and the storage system is damaged as well."

"Then get someone to fix it."

Victor walked towards the door, "I've received a call from the Prison Administration Bureau ordering us to dispatch our best troops to assist the Mexico City local military police in maintaining stability. By the time I return, I want this place clean."

"One more thing!"

As he reached the door, he suddenly turned back, startling Casare.

"Invite two priests to come and give them the last rites."

Victor was still too kind.

The prison gates opened.

A TPz-1 "Fox" armored personnel carrier led the way, followed by a BTR-40 armored vehicle and four desert-colored HuNovelFireees.

At the prison entrance, a red van was surrounded by several men standing on either side.

In Mexico, such small groups were easily identified; they were either drug traffickers or car thieves.

They watched, dumbstruck, as the armored vehicles emerged from the prison.

Their minds filled with question marks.

Had the Mexican Government really become this extravagant?

Suddenly, they saw the cannon on the armored vehicle in front of them swivel towards them, a bad premonition immediately overwhelming them and making their scalps tingle.

"¡Corre!¡Corre!¡Corre! (Run! Run! Run!)"

Clink~ Tatatatatatata...

The Rh202 20mm autocannon mounted on the E-6 circular support on the roof fired away like diarrhea—the sound... was explosive!

Bullets showered down on the van.

Glass shattered to the ground in an instant.

The body of the van shuddered from the impacts until a stray bullet hit the fuel tank, and with a "boom," it was blown sky high.

The armored vehicle crushed the pile of scrap metal beneath its tracks.

Victor gripped the handle inside the car tightly with his left hand, still wearing a bulletproof vest, and held a walkie-talkie in his hand.

"Guys, let Mexico City welcome our grand arrival! Kill those drug-dealing bastards who are disrupting order!"

"We've got three things to do, kill drug traffickers, kill drug traffickers, and still, damn it, kill drug traffickers!"

"God bless the world, and we'll protect Mexico!"

...

Mexico City, at this moment, was in complete chaos that could be summed up with one phrase.

Even God needed to wear a safety helmet on his bottom.

The Mexican Government had sent out the Mexican Military Police to engage in street firefights with drug traffickers!

The sounds of gunshots, screams, and cries were nonstop.

Incredibly, the military police were being forced to retreat!

In the Michels District, where the firefight was particularly intense, even a Santana 109 military light vehicle belonging to the military was burnt to a cinder on the roadside, with many uniformed policemen lying on the ground.

The drug lords, with bandanas wrapped around their faces, stormed into a roadside diner.

They mercilessly butchered the civilians seeking refuge inside.

Those military policemen were nothing but rubbish!

The drug traffickers brazenly stood on the tops of vehicles, spraying bullets all around, and one even dropped his trousers and flashed his privates at the policemen hiding not far away.

"Trash!" the drug lords yelled, flipping the middle finger.

But these military policemen did not show the slightest bit of backbone.

"Save me! Save me!" A shrill voice rang out, and two drug lords could be seen dragging a man out to their leader, who was shouting insistently.

A woman rushed out from behind them, kneeled hastily on the ground, pleading desperately in slang.

The leader tore the man's arm open, saw the Sinaloa tattoo, and plunged a dagger into his neck.

The woman let out a scream and madly ran towards him, but her head was blown off by a drug trafficker.

"Chop off their heads," the leader ordered.

The henchman nodded. Suddenly, he felt the ground beneath his feet tremble slightly. Puzzled, he looked up only to see the barrel of a gun protruding around a corner, followed by an armored vehicle crashing through the wall.

The autocannon fired...

Those bewildered drug traffickers didn't even open their mouths before their upper bodies were blown apart!

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Degtyaryov Shpagin SG-43 Machine Gun!