Working as a police officer in Mexico

Chapter 61 Public Opinion Propaganda!

This was essentially a trail of "slaughter" all the way to the Guadalupe Island Police Station.

You could see pits and ditches everywhere, as well as the bodies of drug traffickers that hadn't been collected in time.

There were even limbs and severed arms hanging on the sandbag bunkers.

Kennedy Heisenberg had set up a 'warning zone,' 200 meters from the police station, sporting a blue sign that read: "Military Jurisdiction," all riddled with bullet holes.

The nearby high-rise buildings had long been abandoned.

Mexicans all knew that living with the police station meant you were bound for heaven unless you were exceptionally tough.

So the vacated buildings had all been turned into fire support positions.

Once the machine guns were mounted on the rooftops, on this street that was not even six or seven meters wide, no matter how many came, they were all getting mowed down.

The convoy entered the police station, and the officers got off the troop carriers, moving the supplies into the storage.

Casare and the others clustered around Victor as he walked into the station.

The banner hanging in the main hall read: "All cops should go to hell!" Next to it was a logo.

It was a familiar "face," a skull with a dagger stabbed into it, the same organization that had cursed Victor in the video: ¡Piratas! (Pirates!)

The inner facilities were all severely damaged; not a single glass pane was intact, with blood and gunpowder mixed on the walls. If it weren't for the national emblem outside, you could mistake it for a recycling center.

"Boss, when we were cleaning up the battlefield yesterday, we found a prisoner. We were about to finish him off, but we recognized him... he looked very familiar," said Kennedy Heisenberg, waving for the officer to kick the person over.

Victor was somewhat curious.

His principle was to not accept any drug trafficker prisoners, but Kennedy Heisenberg must have had a reason to keep this one specifically.

They saw in the neighboring room, a drug trafficker beaten like a dead dog being dragged out by his hair, his face bruised and swollen, and thrown on the ground.

Victor looked over twice, and hey, wouldn't you know it, wasn't this the Piratas (Pirate) leader who had cursed him in the video?

His memory was simply good, nothing petty about it.

Victor pinched his face, and the fear in the other's eyes was spreading.

"You liked to talk, didn't you? But I really hate people who talk too much, and moreover, I want to know whether stabbing this dagger into the skull results in death or not."

Victor, smiling, said to Kennedy, "Take him down and try it, then hang him outside the warning zone."

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He swore he was not acting out of spite.

Hearing his terrible fate, the drug trafficker's legs went weak with fear, not at all like the defiant figure on the video.

Kennedy waved his hand, and two officers dragged him away.

Victor's face showed relief, with a smile that was much more nonchalant, "If I remember correctly, doesn't Guadalupe Island have a TV station?"

"Yes, it's currently controlled by Reclusos en confinamiento (Confined Prisoners). They even demand through their TV programs that no one provide us with assistance, otherwise they'll kill the person's entire family, right?"

Victor's brow lifted, "Take some men and take back this TV station. How can we allow such a propaganda tool to be in the hands of drug traffickers? Do it now. Those bastards surely won't expect us to act so swiftly. Tonight, I want to deliver a TV address."

Propaganda was very important.

You see, after the Millennium, many drug trafficking organizations started to promote their "ideologies" through TV stations, news media, and short videos.

Why El Mencho could lead the Jalisco New Generation to prominence among many drug trafficking organizations was partly because he was quite adept at using media. Capturing rival gang members, he would first interrogate them, and then kill them under the guise of "justice," claiming in the media that he was upholding righteousness!

Even the drug traffickers were playing this game.

It's with this tactic that Jalisco New Generation gradually flourished.

This vital institution was something Victor had to take over upon taking his position. He wanted to spread the "Victor Quotations" throughout the entire island.

Kennedy Heisenberg nodded, picked thirty EDM members, loaded up on ammunition, and hopped on the Mi-8 helicopter, planning a surprise airborne assault.

Watching the helicopter fly away and seeing the busy officers below, Victor suddenly called out, "Casare."

"Boss?"

"Finally, no one can control me anymore, I was suffocating in Mexico City!"

Casare, seeing Victor's almost distorted tone, hesitated, "Do you want me to contact a psychologist for you?"

"Does he also traffic drugs?"

Casare's mind also flashed with '??'

...

How many pairs of eyes were fixed on the police station?

No sooner had the Mi-8 lifted off than many began to panic.

"Quick! Follow it and see where it's going!"

"Make a call! Shoot it down!"

Not even on their mothers' wedding night would these drug traffickers be this nervous.

The Guadalupe Island TV station, situated near the beach on the northwest corner, about 20 meters tall, was considered a "standout" on the small island.

The Mi-8 hovered over the rooftop, and Kennedy led his team to rappel down, splitting the 30 men into three groups for the operation.

Kennedy had just led his team bursting down the stairs.

Tap tap tap...

A burst of bullets swept across, and Kennedy, acting on reflex, forcefully threw himself against a wall, the bullets grazing past his scalp.

"Hand Grenade!" he yelled.

One of the team members behind him pulled the pin on an F-1 hand grenade and tossed it backhandedly down the stairs, hearing it roll twice.

Boom!!

A cloud of smoke rose up, accompanied by screams.

Kennedy charged down, spraying bullets at the fallen drug traffickers on the floor.

He was kind-hearted, not wanting them to suffer too much, he sent them on their way early.

In such narrow spaces for CQB, close-range combat was fierce, and they were specifically equipped with the "Trench Broom" Winchester Model 1897 pump-action shotgun, an old but deadly weapon—whether you felt the pain or not, if you got hit, you were meat paste.

If you were quick with your hands, you could even use it as a "suppressive weapon."

The squad infiltrated the TV station, and as they maneuvered past a small door, Kennedy, leading with the shotgun, suddenly encountered a figure rushing out from around the corner.

It was a woman with short hair in white clothes!

Good-looking, too!

She had a pistol in her hands, but Kennedy's shotgun was already pointing right at her face, and he pulled the trigger instinctively.

Beng!

No matter how good-looking, half her head was blown off.

Kennedy, feeling the blood on the top of his hood, fired another round at the still convulsing body on the ground.

Silicone spurted out.

Meanwhile, the other two squads entered the TV station through a broken window, gunfire not ceasing.

Indoor combat was especially intense, sometimes leaving even the most seasoned fighters powerless.

This included the famous "Malotte incident" where the renowned Wild Kid Special Forces were bogged down and lost.

"Boss, there's a firefight in a room on the right side of the first floor. Lagarto is injured, Leopardo has been killed, and the drug traffickers have taken two hostages," a team member from EDM radioed in for instructions.

Kennedy pressed his earpiece, "There are no hostages in the TV station, only drug traffickers! I repeat, only drug traffickers!"

"¡Recibido!" (Received)

Hearing the command through the earpiece, the squad leader understood what to do. He pulled out two hand grenades from his pocket, bound them together with tactical tape, pulled the pin of one, counted silently for a few seconds, and then threw it directly into the room.

A loud explosion...

A leg was blasted out of the door.

The squad rushed in, finishing off those who weren't quite dead yet.

"Head, reinforcements for the drug traffickers are on their way!"

Listening to the voice in his earpiece, Kennedy hurried to the window to look outside.

Outside the TV station, more than 200 drug traffickers were swarming down from about twenty pickup trucks.

These people were just damn hard to kill!

"Requesting backup!"

...