Working as a police officer in Mexico

Chapter 62 Betraying a Brother, Double-Dealing and Framing

Alberto Lopez Portillo (Alberto) was very annoyed as he loosened the top button of his suit.

As the spokesperson for "Reclusos en confinamiento," his family had been active on Guadalupe Island for 60 years.

This was one of the important US-Mexico air routes, very close to California, earning a significant income each year through kidnapping tourists, smuggling, and drug trafficking.

Unlike the old-school drug traffickers, Alberto was educated, even a high-achieving graduate of Cambridge University's business school. He wanted to unite all the drug traffickers on the island following the "Godfather" Gallardo's system of centralized management, unified collection of payments, and uniform distribution.

He believed that Guadalupe Island alone was enough to sustain many people.

Just when he was full of ambition and ready to expand his influence...

Victor arrived!

Coming up with a rat-a-tat-tat, completely uncivilized, catching the drug traffickers off guard. Couldn't you have come up to talk first?

In Alberto's view, the drug traffickers on Guadalupe Island were forced to fight back!

When he learned that the television station had been attacked, even the usually calm Alberto cursed outrageously. In his new Plaza System, this place was an important publicity outlet, and more importantly, the Portillo family earned a lot of money from the television station every year.

He came with his gunmen to assist.

"Charge! A $500 reward for killing a policeman!"

The drug traffickers coming down from the pickup trucks were herded by the underbosses, driving them to charge forward as if they were cattle or sheep.

Really not employing any tactics at all.

You can do this against the Mexican Military Police, but facing EDM (Mexican Lion), aren't you just targets?

As soon as they entered firing range, they were met with a crossfire.

They couldn't even break through the defensive line.

A drug trafficker holding a rocket launcher crouched and fired at the second floor!

"RPG!!!"

Whizz~

Bong!

The massive shockwave blew an EDM member by the window outwards, falling to the ground coughing up blood, half an arm missing, all shredded. Kennedy Heisenberg ran over, pulling out a tourniquet and gauze from his shoulder to bandage the wounded.

But the impact was too great, and soon enough, the light in his eyes dimmed.

Kennedy paused his hands, knowing there was no hope. As a commander, he coldly dragged the body of his comrade to one side and directed the others to continue resisting.

Meanwhile, Victor at the police headquarters also received the call for help, likewise seeing the Golden Finger's figure of 74/80 manpower, a full 6 men down!

Of course, this could be replenished.

But it also indicated the intensity of the battle.

Victor quickly organized a rescue, leaving 60 officers to guard the police station, all others went to provide support.

Two TPz-1 armored vehicles were loaded with protective grilles, reducing the likelihood of being destroyed by a single rocket launcher shot. Inside the vehicles, the officers tensely massaged their faces.

Most of them had only ever been jail guards.

Lacking in combat experience.

They needed to be taken out for training!

Victor, wearing a bulletproof vest, boarded the SA.321Ja helicopter, rushing towards the television station.

Alberto's entire body was seething with emotion, and he tore off the well-maintained facade, snarling, "Waste! You're all waste!"

200 people, and they couldn't even break into the television station.

The drug trafficker boss beside him glanced at him, dissatisfied with this new spokesperson. The brothers went up and fought with real knives and guns, and you're directing from the back?

Your hair is just a little longer than others.

"Boss, police reinforcements are arriving!"

A subordinate next to him, holding a phone, said nervously. Alberto was startled, and then, hearing the noise of machinery, he looked up to see a helicopter approaching from a distance.

The drug traffickers could distinctly feel the rising panic.

Every day, a helicopter hovers over you and you can't shoot it down. Doesn't your head hurt?

"Alberto, pull back! The police firepower is too intense. We'll figure out a way to buy more heavy weapons and blow up these two helicopters later."

A leader advised from aside, but the tone wasn't suggestive of a discussion. After speaking, the other party immediately signaled the drug traffickers to retreat.

Alberto was so frustrated he was practically itching in annoyance!

The Portillo family was, at its core, a criminal syndicate, and you think you little punk can take over? You're not fit for it.

Just like the Gulf Group, which by all accounts belonged to the Abrego family. But after his arrest, his sons and nephews lacked the ability to call the shots, and had to share power with Cardenas. Later, they were kicked to the curb.

Criminal syndicates are not royal thrones.

You think you can inherit just by saying so?

Alberto felt these old immortals were getting in the way, but he held back, his eyes fiercely fixed on them, his gaze shifting to the helicopters in the sky. He frowned, gestured with his fingers to pull a trusted subordinate over and whispered two sentences in his ear, "Go find the police, tell them where Litokwa and the others are hiding."

The subordinate was immediately bewildered, his tongue tying into knots, "Boss…"

Litokwa was the family's second in command, the same drug trafficker who had just shouted his full name, someone Alberto was quite close to, likely his uncle.

He wanted to use the police to kill the opponent.

A drug trafficker is always a drug trafficker; they never forget to fight amongst themselves no matter the circumstances.

Even the later-hyped "Shorty" Guzman's best trick was betrayal: being unfaithful, selling out brothers, siphoning from both ends, framing and entrapment, seducing sister-in-laws!

You still expect criminals to have any integrity?

Those willing to cross moral boundaries to commit crimes have very little integrity.

Victor?

He was just morally flexible.

After all, he held the final say, for who could argue when you wield the bigger gun?

Under Alberto's watchful eye, the trusted subordinate had no choice but to agree reluctantly.

But he felt full of despair for the future.

If the bosses fight like this among themselves, how can they fight a war against the police?

Moreover, he felt that Alberto wasn't all that capable, narrow-minded and unpleasant. Should he betray him to the "underboss"?

Thinking this, the trusted subordinate couldn't help but glance at Alberto.

…

"Chief, they're pulling out. Do we pursue?" yelled an observer from the helicopter. The voice was muffled and nearly drowned out by the loud noise.

Victor, sporting wind goggles, looked down and saw the drug traffickers drifting away in their pickup trucks.

"Let's land first!" Victor made a downward motion.

The pilot responded with an OK gesture, and the helicopter landed on the rooftop of the TV station where people were already waiting.

Victor leaped nimbly down from above and slapped Kennedy on the shoulder while commending him, covering one ear with his hand, "Is the broadcast room operational?"

"It's functional!"

Victor nodded, flicked his fingers, and signaled to be led the way.

Descending the stairwell, the air still reeked of gunpowder; corpses and debris were everywhere. Find more to read at m_v l|-NovelBin.net

"There are 11 surviving staff members at the TV station…"

"I remember Best's intelligence report mentioned there were over 20 staff members here?" Victor looked at Kennedy, who kept mum, and he understood instantly, "Drug traffickers are beasts!"

"I will expose these brutal methods to all the islanders of Guadalupe Island!"

"Boss, should I find someone to prepare a speech for you?"

"Are there any college graduates among the police officers?"

No one spoke.

Who would become a police officer in Mexico when they were a college graduate? They would have fled and immigrated long ago.

Those who could read and had education came from wealthy families; as always, it's the poor who stay put.

...