Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 531 Regular Army VS Gangsters!

The appearance of the C-17 brought a sigh of relief to President Alfredo Cristiani Burkard.

A lot of thoughts raced through his little head. It must be that the relationship between the United States and Mexico had eased, and there might even be some deals involved. No matter what, how could Mexico get the "new products" from the United States? Could it be stolen?

Hahahaha, this joke is so dull.

Alfredo Cristiani Burkard was wondering whether the United States and Mexico had reached an agreement. After all, weapons and equipment require a lot of experiments. Perhaps the Mexicans are the testing ground?

Standing at the back of the welcoming crowd, Ignazio Gutierrez, Director of the Salvadoran Intelligence Agency, had a solemn expression on his face.

He's a CIA informant...

And it wasn't the other party who found him, but he "brought his own dog food". It can only be said that in Latin America, the United States is still too attractive to them.

Just like the University of East China in Southeast Asia...

The surrounding small countries also have a high sense of civilizational identity, otherwise why would Koreans steal so many festivals and cultures?

Deep down, they still have the fear and envy of their ancestors towards the country they serve.

After the three C-3s slowly came to a stop, their rear doors slowly opened. The lights on the planes were very bright, and slogans of "Qitian" were heard from two of the planes.

The team trotted out in an orderly manner.

The armed police's military...police uniforms are different from the Mexican military uniforms. The former use pure black training uniforms, made of cotton-polyester scratch-resistant plaid cloth + 30D elastic breathable surface material. Even the helmet is pure black, with a PVS-7 monocular night vision goggle hanging on it, and the handheld guns are also different.

Holding a rifle similar to the German HK33, some of them even carried sniper rifles and wore skull masks, looking very imposing and eye-catching.

"If this wasn't the army, I would eat my dog's shit!" a Spanish reporter said through gritted teeth in the press area.

"Don't cheat for free food and drinks, these are our heavily armed police!" The Mexican reporter standing by, of course, defended them and said with a stiff neck.

"You police still use TPz-1 armored vehicles and M1A2?"

"And... what is that? Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk and Apache! Fuck, this is US special forces equipment, and you're using this to fight gangs?"

The Mexican reporter looked at the tank coming down from another plane, and his scalp was numb, but he still said, "What's that called M1A2? It's a Salamander, developed independently by Mexico. What's wrong with equipping the police? Is there a legal provision that stipulates that the firepower of the police must be weaker than that of the army?"

"Besides, this is how we treat drug dealers and gangs in Mexico. Are you not convinced? Ask the drug dealers. If there are no regulations, you can use it!"

"Yeah, there are no rules!" The Cuban reporter nearby echoed with his eyes glaring, his sleeves rolled up, as if ready to fight.

It’s not like I haven’t done it before…

Mexican journalists are still quite strong in their fighting capacity.

It is said that there is a rule in the Mexican National Channel: "The use of equipment during a fight is allowed, and the company will reimburse the money." Just with this rule, all workers should be happy.

Reporters from other countries all stood nearby with strange expressions...

Okay, okay, you are right, but what about that tangible murderous aura?

Momentum is a very mysterious thing, but those who have served in the military or have a veteran in the family know that people who have killed people and fought in the battlefield can be very creepy when they become serious.

However, what attracted everyone the most was the new type of individual equipment, even the Salvadoran Defense Minister couldn't name it.

"Mr. President, the Mexicans are coming." The secretary behind him saw that President Alfredo had not moved yet, and said in a low voice.

His eyes focused and his body trembled, and he saw five Mexicans walking towards him, led by Casare, accompanied by the Minister of Police Robert Beal.

"Welcome, Mr. Casare!" President Alfredo took a few steps forward and extended his hand with a smile.

Fatty Ka grinned and shook his hand. "Thank you very much. This is Major General Robert Beale, the Minister of Police."

Alfredo smiled and nodded, "Hello."

"This is our Deputy Minister of Police, Major General Alfred Schlieffen, who is also the commander of the supporting El Salvador Military Police and will be in charge of this operation."

Casare pointed to another person next to him. That person was very thin, but there was a gleam in his eyes. He looked like a very tough person. Alfred Schlieffen saluted the President of Salvador.

President Alfredo was about to reach out.

boom! ! !
A huge explosion outside the airport scared him so much that he shrank his neck in fear. The hairs on his neck stood up and he looked around hurriedly. The reporters around him were also scared and looked around panicked, but they didn't run around.

After the explosions around, there was rapid gunfire.

"It seems that some people in El Salvador are not very welcoming to us." Casare remained calm when he heard the explosion. What kind of scene has he not seen?

He glanced at President Alfredo with a mocking look in his eyes.

You almost fell to the ground.

Alfredo is actually not a bad guy, after all, he survived the civil war, but a civil servant is always a civil servant, and he was scared like this when he heard a little explosion.

"Sir, from now on, we will take over your law and order."

"Okay, thank you for your help." Alfredo also looked unhappy.

I'm entertaining guests here, and you hit me like this, you...when you bully me, can't you wait until privately to do it?
Casare looked at Alfred Schlieffen, "You are in charge now."

"Yes, sir!"

He ran back to the team and shouted at the top of his voice, "Captain of the First Battalion, push your TPz-1 armored vehicles out, push them out, and the infantry of the Second Battalion will follow in coordination."

He paused, then ran back, "Sir, I want to raid Barrio 18's lair tonight and defeat Edgar Santos Castro in one fell swoop."

"Do as you came!"

"Yes!"

"Will we raid Barrio 18 today? Will we..." A Salvadoran official was shocked when he heard his words and asked hurriedly, his tone a little flustered.

MD, I haven't notified you yet, can you wait for me to make a call first?

Casare's smile slowly faded, "Don't worry, gentlemen. It's all right."

The official who spoke sneered at his look. He felt that there was something wrong with the way the Mexican looked at him.

Alfred Schlieffen hurried to make arrangements, and soon everyone saw a 30-man combat team boarding an AH-1 attack helicopter and two Sikorsky UH-64 "Black Hawks" and flying into the night.

What they don’t know is that this 30-man team was originally affiliated with the Swat Special Police Force and the Special Police Company, and was separated from it to form: Earth Warrior!

None of them are new recruits, but experienced and powerful veterans.

Before the Mexican vanguard arrived, there were already intelligence personnel covering the area, just like radar, scanning all the rats hiding in the shadows.

Everything you want to know is already known.

Edgar Santos Castro, now 55 years old, comes from a family of priests. His father and brother are both priests, so of course he inherited this business, but... during that time he believed in liberation theology and fought in the civil war.

This guy had a good brain, but he couldn't stand loneliness. He started selling drugs in Grenada. After leaving the guerrillas, he traveled around the world and finally formed his own team in the United States.

Barrio 18!

In just a few years, it occupied Honduras, El Salvador, San Francisco, Canada and other places. An American reporter once interviewed him and asked him if he was the reason for the deaths of so many people?
He was silent for a moment and then said:
"Fighting and drug trafficking are the fate of the poor for life!"

This sentence is so famous that he was put on the FBI's wanted list, but at the same time he was also an FBI informant. For Foberle, as long as you don't make trouble and behave like a dog, I will guarantee your wealth and glory.

So…Edgar Santos Castro did it.

He has a background, he's not just some small-time scoundrel.

So, just a few minutes, three or four minutes, after the military police commander Alfred Schlieffen said he wanted to decapitate and send special operations forces, the CIA quickly passed the message to him.

Edgar Santos Castro, who had already arranged his men, was in high spirits, holding an assault rifle in his hand, and his younger brothers around him were carrying rocket launchers. He was confident that he could wipe out all the Mexicans in the slums!
Let them know that he is not the losers of Mexico, he is Barrio 18 who dominates the Latin American mafia world.

But as he waited, the sky grew brighter and Edgar became more and more uneasy.

Jingle bell bell~
The phone on the table rang suddenly, and the already tense subordinate shuddered. Then, a shot was fired and the bullet went off and hit the ceiling.

Edgar went up to him and slapped him in the face, glaring at him, "Idiot, turn off the insurance!"

The subordinates nodded hurriedly.

He snorted coldly, walked over and picked up the phone, "Hello!"

"Brother..."

Across from him was his own brother, wailing, "Help us, help!"

Edgar's expression suddenly changed. "Hey! Carrick, what's going on..."

Chug tug tug…

boom! !

"Run, rockets!!!!"

Gunshots were heard from the other side, followed by panicked escapes and screams.

Edgar's hands tightened. His brother, parents and wife were all arranged to live in a villa where few people knew about it. How could this happen?

Hearing the busy tone on the phone, he threw the receiver and said, "Gather everyone, quickly!"

Although the subordinates did not understand, they still gathered the team.

Edgar and his men rushed to the villa, which was located on a beach in the westernmost part of El Salvador. It was hidden very deeply. He had too many opponents. The American gangs, MS-13, etc. all wanted to kill his whole family, so he could only hide them.

But when he and his men arrived, the whole villa was on fire!
Burn the darkness transparently.

"what!!!!"

Edgar yelled, his eyes red as he looked at the fire, "Who did it? Who did it!"

He stood up shakily, grabbed the younger brother and took the phone out of his arms, pushed him away, called his superior, and shouted, "Who did it? Who did it!!!"

"We have all been deceived, Edgar. Those Mexicans didn't go looking for you at all. Instead..." The CIA on the other side spoke in a serious tone.

They were all fooled!

Everything they said at the airport was a lie.

"Fuck! Fuck! Bastard, where is the CIA? Your intelligence is all fake, idiot!!!"

The other online voice was dissatisfied, "You need to calm down..."

"I'll draft X. Wait until I kill your parents. I'll calm you down!" Edgar Santos Castro yelled, and hung up the phone. He was so angry that he lost his mind. "Call everyone. Start the war. Start the war!"

"Yes! Boss!"

The people in Barrio 18 were also outraged. It was always them who killed entire families. When would it be someone else's turn to do the same?

Members of Barrio 18 began to gather in San Salvador.

There was an exchange of fire with an army that was under full martial law, and the latter collapsed directly, killing more than 30 people, and they headed all the way to the National Palace.

Are you worthy of being called the National Palace?

Finally, they encountered the Mexican military police at the famous Emerald Garden intersection in the city. The two sides started a gunfight, with armored vehicles providing fire support from behind, and the Salamander tanks rushed forward and crushed them directly in the hail of bullets...

The gunfire continued until five o'clock the next day, when it slowly ended.

When they found someone still alive while collecting the bodies, the Mexican military police used an armored vehicle to drag him by his legs and drove through densely populated areas, playing Spanish on loudspeakers: "This is what happens to gang members!"

The gangster, who was already seriously injured, must have been injured after being dragged like this, but the blood and flesh were all over the place when he was pulled on the ground. It was absolutely not suitable for children.

Civilians were so scared that they didn't even dare to open the windows.

The Mexican vanguard used the international airport as a temporary base, where they ate and drank all their food and other necessities, and they did not require the Salvadorans to take responsibility for them, for fear of poisoning. Even water was airlifted in.

Casare had breakfast with President Alfredo Cristiani Burkard, who had dark circles under his eyes.

"Don't worry, Mr. President. Gangsters are like sponges. If you hold them tightly, they won't be able to escape from you. But if you let go, they will bounce back. Once the remaining military police arrive, the gangsters will just flee. If they don't run, they will die here."

"Leave the domestic affairs to Alfred Schlieffen. Tomorrow is General Victor's wedding. Do you want to come with me?"

The other party is also on the invitation list.

Alfredo is actually a little afraid of retaliation now. The Mexican military police are too harsh. They killed more than 600 people yesterday. He is under tremendous pressure now, but he also understands that the gangs are the cancer of the country. There is absolutely no future if they are not eradicated.

"Sure, and, what about living in Mexico for a few months?"

Casare was stunned by what he said.

"Then in China..."

"It's okay. There aren't many problems in the country. I want to take the defense minister and the vice president to learn about Mexico's philosophy."

This is too cowardly!
Your country has just gone through a civil war and is still unstable, so you're running away? Aren't you afraid that the opposition will stand up?

Casare was being straightforward, that's what he asked.

Sure enough, President Alfredo had a tangled and struggling expression. He glanced around and found that the nearest bodyguards were more than ten meters away. He hesitated for a moment and lowered his voice, "Sir, can Mexico help me?"

"What?" Fatty Ka was stunned.

"Help me wipe out the opposition."

"??????? Sorry, we don't interfere in other countries' internal affairs."

"Several high-ranking members of the opposition are involved in drug trafficking!"

Fatty Ka's face turned serious. "Global drug control is our mission. You provide the list and we are responsible for the account. As long as they are really involved in drug trafficking, we will send them to see Jesus. However... you'd better control the intensity. After all, they are still armed."

Alfredo's face turned into a squash.

But conspiracies began to float in my mind.

Casare ate his breakfast quietly and shook his head in his heart. The other party was not a qualified politician and was too afraid of death.

I'm really worried about El Salvador.

……

(End of this chapter)