Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 548 I swear on the Sierra Madre!
In fact, Master Victor is kind-hearted.

If there is hair hanging, it is recommended to use warm pressure bomb to wash the floor...

When that thing hit, it flattened part of the Sierra Madre and Lacandon Mountains.

How can that be good for Mexico's ecological environment?
So, Victor is still good.

But he is kind, but the officers and soldiers on the front line are different.

For everyone in the Southern Theater Command, young soldiers are eager to establish merit.

Every day I have enough food and drink, and I have a lot of money, and occasionally I get some subsidies from above.

When President Victor got married, he distributed 1.2 million new riyals to the army, plus 3 million riyals in welfare subsidies to widows, widowers and orphans across the country!

Of course, this money is not paid by the government. There are people who are willing to give. If a dozen or twenty companies pool their money together, wouldn't the money be available?

If you want to rally the army and overthrow Victor now, it is basically impossible. The grassroots people are not pushovers. This is why Victor was so angry when he heard about the rebellion in Chiapas.

I exploded my sugar-coated bullet, you ate the sugar coating, and then shot the bullet back at me, right?

How can I not be annoyed?
The Sierra Madre is a mountain range in the Mexican state of Chiapas, stretching from the Isthmus of Tehuantepec along the Pacific coast to the border with Guatemala.

Across a state!
It seems that Chiapas has been divided into two halves. If there are no roads, how can the economy be developed?

In a mountain canyon called "Atpa", there are many buildings and a lot of people talking. A large group of people wearing Indian costumes are dancing in front of a statue. Next to them is a priest with totems painted on his face and feathers on his head, who is chattering about something incomprehensible.

He must be having an epileptic seizure.

But it looked a little creepy, because on the middle pillar, there were three people tied up, two men and one woman, and they looked very disheveled.

There was blood at the corners of their mouths, and they had obviously been beaten. They had their heads drooped and looked listless.

The priest raised his hands and roared.

The tribesmen holding AK47s nearby screamed and fired at the sky.

Quite up-to-date.

The three people who heard the gunshots were awakened. They looked up in panic and saw the priest walking towards them with a stone knife and a fierce look in his eyes.

The tied-up woman burst into tears, "Don't kill us, we are reporters, we are here to help you, Ah Xi!!!"

Don't speak Korean.

Can the priest understand?
He thought that the woman was yelling at him to disrupt the ceremony, but sure enough, his expression twitched, became even more ferocious, and he grabbed the woman's hair.

Amid the other party's terrified struggle and screams, the stone knife stabbed into his throat with force!

puff-

The sharp tip of the knife came out from the back of the neck, covered with blood and unknown tissue.

“Chuckle, chuckle—”

The woman spat out blood, her eyes began to blur, her whole body twitched, and her head drooped.

The priest drew his knife and cheered, and the tribesmen behind him shouted as well.

He did the same to the other two male reporters, stabbing them to let their blood flow, but for the last one, he twisted the stone knife hard and cut off his head.

"The gods are watching us! The blood of foreigners will irrigate our land, and they will grant us infinite power!"

The priest raised his head and shouted loudly.

"The gods are listening to us!!"

Woohoo—

Just at this moment, a shadow appeared above the head, covering the sky, and then something was heard rushing down.

"The gods laid eggs!!!"

I don't know which idiot suddenly said this.

The priest's throat choked and a "hehe" sound came out. He stared with fear in his triangular eyes.

"bomb!!"

It’s not like he hasn’t seen the world. He graduated from the University of Granada after all. He came back to be the chieftain because…

That’s a lot of money.

Selling the products produced by ethnic minorities is much better than attending any crappy class. And because he studied in Spain, he was indoctrinated with Western ideas and hated Victor.

In the Western mainstream media, Victor is a piece of shit.

The priest started to run, but his robe was too long and he stepped on it and fell flat on his face.

He could only watch in horror as the bomb fell into the canyon.

boom! !

In an instant, the flames devoured everything madly, the heat waves rolled, and even the air was shaking.

The priest's pupils shrank and he was instantly engulfed by the flames.

The missile dropped was the Soviet-made ZB-500, which uses a unique aerosol dispersion mechanism. The 500-kilogram projectile has a built-in high-pressure nitrogen tank, which sprays the combustion agent into atomized form the moment it hits the ground, with a coverage radius of 35 meters.

During the 1979 Afghanistan War, this model was used to clear caves in mountainous areas, with the longest burning time recorded being 11 minutes and 23 seconds.

With one bullet, the entire canyon instantly turned into a sea of ​​fire.

You run?

Can you run away!
The Southern War Zone is trying to force them to become a mobile "population". If you have betrayed us and you still dare to stay in the canyon, the reconnaissance planes in the sky will see it very clearly.

More than forty minutes later.

A company-level unit of more than 30 people came here according to the coordinates. Standing outside the canyon, the heat wave still hit them in the face.

The air also smells of...barbecue.

"Be alert." The leading company commander shouted loudly.

This regiment is composed of veterans, who were from the main regiment of the Second Army before the reorganization. Now they are affiliated with the Southern Theater Guards Division and have strong combat effectiveness.

The military boots made a crunching sound as they stepped on the soil.

Ashes everywhere...

Is there anyone left alive after this incendiary bomb was dropped?
There are about 900 people in this tribe.

Now no one is making a sound.

"There's someone here."

Someone shouted from the steep angle.

"Tu tu tu tu..."

Gunfire breaks out.

The nearby soldiers hurried over, while others in the distance looked around vigilantly.

There is a basement-like recess on the rear side of a collapsed house, covered with a large lid. It is far away, no wonder it was not affected by the incendiary bomb.

"There were a dozen or so children hiding inside, as well as two women armed with AKs."

Just now a soldier almost died. He shouted with lingering fear, "It was almost there, it was glorious."

"flamethrower!"

The company commander shouted, and two flamethrowers trotted over. He gestured to the deputy company commander, and the other understood instantly.

"Surrender! Surrender! We surrender!"

There was a hole in the basement, and a voice with a strong Spanish dialect was shouting, and the voice was trembling.

"Come out." the company commander shouted.

The lid was pushed open from the inside, and the people hiding inside were seen with fear on their faces. The two women were not very old, wearing Indian clothes, and holding AK47s tightly.

"We surrender, and you must ensure our safety."

"Don't worry, I swear by the gods of the Sierra Madre Mountains that I, Hans Frank, will not harm your lives." The company commander said with narrowed eyes.

For the Indians, swearing an oath to the gods is a very serious matter.

Sure enough, the two women crawled out trembling as soon as they heard it.

They stood there in fear.

Captain Hans Frank glanced over, raised his eyebrows, and walked up to a boy standing at the front of the line, "Does your look say that you hate us?"

"No, no!" The woman hugged the man and begged, "Sir, he didn't, he's just nervous."

Hans Frank smiled.

"Yes! I hate you, you bandits, bastards, when I grow up, I will kill you all!" Who knew that the boy shouted angrily, struggled to break free from the woman's arms, and rushed towards Hans Frank.

boom!
There was a gunshot, and the bullet hit the opponent's knee, causing him to fall to the ground.

The two women screamed and rushed forward, but were knocked heavily to the ground by the soldiers.

Hans Frank walked over and stepped on his head, looking down at him, "I'm sorry, your wish cannot be fulfilled."

As he said this, he raised the gun.

"Hans Frank! You swear to the gods!!!" the Indian struggled and shouted.

Hans Frank smiled disdainfully and fired his bullet at the boy at his feet.

bang bang bang-

The head was broken into pieces and the skull was flipped over.

"Kill them all."

As his order was given, the deputy company commander fired at the last dozen or so survivors of the tribe with a machine gun.

In an instant, he fell in a pool of blood.

"You will be punished by the gods, you will die a violent death, I curse you, I curse you to die a miserable death!" The Indian woman screamed sharply before she died.

The sound was enough to make people tremble.

Especially the curse...

This made many veterans look gloomy and they looked at each other.

"If there is a curse, then the drug dealers would have been cursed to death long ago. How can the Führer come to suppress them?!"

When the company commander Hans Frank saw that everyone had different expressions, he understood the psychological discomfort and shouted loudly.

"Besides... what does a god mean? If he has a mountain, we will blow it up. If he has a sea, we will level it. Mexico is now the power of the people, not gods!"

I have to say that everyone under Victor has two or three tricks of speech.

If it wasn't inappropriate, he would have planned to arrange for the political commissar to go in, but the company commander, the military chief, also served as the ideological instructor. After hearing what he said, everyone was relieved and continued to sweep the entire canyon.

The body on the ground?
There are plenty of jackals and wild beasts in the mountains!

The Southern Theater of Operations launched a massive raid against the tribes…

Some foolish people rebelled and settled down in open areas such as canyons, without even trying to run away. Aren't they just sitting ducks?

Kill them all!
Leave no one behind.

With the communication technology in the 90s, it was actually very easy to deliberately conceal many things, and paper media was now the mainstream.

But who knows in Mexico?
Even if you know, do you dare to say it?
In just three or four days, four or five tribes were destroyed, more than 1500 people were killed, and nearly 15 tons of drug raw materials and nearly 2000 guns of various types were seized.

The Nahuatl rebels could only start to split up into small groups and fight guerrilla warfare by ambushing in the mountains and forests.

When you are hungry and thirsty, you can only leave it to fate. It rains heavily and the whole forest is wet.

Add to that the threat of disease and wild animals...

In an unknown village on the border between Guatemala and Mexico.

Jevon Alves, director of operations for the Spanish North American Affairs Bureau, was in his office drinking coffee and eating a piece of cheese that had been airlifted from Europe. It tasted delicious.

"Sir, sir, you can't go in..." A shout came from the door, followed by a loud "bang". The door was pushed open, and a burly man about two meters tall walked in aggressively, with prominent cheekbones and fierce eyes, like a wolf.

Director Jeven Alvis was startled. The cheese in his throat got stuck in his neck and he choked. He screamed hard, his face flushed, and he looked around but couldn't find any water.

The sturdy man frowned, grabbed the other's collar with his hand as big as a palm fan, and slapped the other's back hard with his other hand.

Puff...a sound!
The stuck cheese came out.

Jevon Alves heaved a sigh of relief and collapsed on the chair, without any energy at all. He looked at the burly man unhappily, "Quinn, don't you know how to knock on the door? Do you want to choke me to death?"

"Spain promised us food and weapons!"

Jeven Alvis looked down on the raw meat and blood-drinking guy opposite him.

Mexican Indians should be thankful that the Spanish did not scalp them during the colonization, otherwise how would you be able to hold on to your office?

Say thank you.

"Don't worry, the supplies are being transported to Madrid. We need to approve it and go through the procedures. We will definitely give it to you as promised." Jeven Alvis swallowed his saliva and felt the pain in his throat. He glanced at the remaining cheese on the table with a look of disgust.

"My men are almost dead. Do you know how many warriors have been killed? If this continues, we will be defeated in two days. You lied to me, you lied to me!!"

Quinn's eyes widened and he grabbed Jevon Alvis' shoulders so hard that his bones were almost broken.

"Listen to me, listen to me!"

"I didn't lie to you. Spain is a civilized country and we have to follow procedures. But don't worry, we will never abandon our allies. I'm going to tell you a piece of news that will make you happy!"

In front of Quinn, Jevon Alvis is like a little chicken. In fact, he is not short, he is over 180cm tall.

White air came out of the Indian's nostrils and his hands loosened slightly.

Jevon Alvis glanced at the people at the door and raised his eyebrows, "Everyone go out and close the door."

Although the subordinate was curious, he also knew that he couldn't listen to what was going to happen next.

"You are not fighting alone. Our domestic public opinion is also helping you. Look, this is a European newspaper." He handed him the newspaper on the table.

Quinn muttered, "I can't read."

Jevon Alvis's hands trembled and he smiled, "Anyway, the whole of Europe is supporting your fight for your rights and your resistance against tyrants. Some people are even donating money to you."

"What's the use of this?!"

"Of course it works. This is called a war of public opinion. Let me tell you a secret. There are actually two plans to overthrow Victor. You are responsible for the internal strife, which will distract their attention, while the external pressure will be guided by others. You know the Medellin Group, right?"

Quinn frowned and looked at him unkindly, refusing to cooperate at all.

The other party laughed awkwardly and cursed in his heart, "The Medellin Group has signed a contract with us in Spain. We will send soldiers and troops to help them fight. Of course, it's not just us. I know that there are more than 20 countries including the United Kingdom, Italy, Poland, South Korea, Japan, etc. They all oppose Victor's tyranny. Drug prohibition is not an excuse. He is promoting and expanding terrorism..."

"I don't care what your ideology is. I'm just following the principle of making a living. If you don't give us assistance, I'll surrender."

How can you say that?
So justified?

"Surrender, Victor will not forgive you." Jeven Alvis frowned and said earnestly.

But it was obvious that the tall guy had a defective IQ. He rolled his eyes and said, "Why not forgive us? We are the children of the mountains. I don't need his land. As long as you give us food, I will surrender. If you don't give me food, I will rebel then."

What a simple brain.

Is this head filled with feces?
Jevon Alvis felt a little tired. It would be easier for a dog to be in his position than for himself.

But he still had to try his best to appease the other party, and his lips were almost smooth, "I promise to deliver your supplies within half a month."

Quinn then released his hand, pointed at his nose, and clenched his fist. Although he didn't say it directly, the threat was obvious.

boom--

Before leaving, he slammed the door shut so hard that cracks appeared in the wall.

Jevon Alvis cursed, but no sound was made, for fear that people outside would hear him.

Spanish…

But he was too cowardly to dare to curse too loudly. However, he was also very greedy and wanted to release the might of the empire to the whole world again.

How to say...

Like my friend next door, he wants to have an affair but he's too masculine, so sad, so sad.

However, as the director of the Spanish Intelligence Agency in North America, Jervin Alvis still has some power.

He knew that the approvals given by the gentlemen in his country were all lies, and they just wanted to get a piece of the pie.

The commissioner needs to eat.

This is very common in the world. Even if the supplies are sent to him, he will get his hands on them.

But at least you sent it over!

Indians are about to cry...

He had no choice but to call his boss and cry, saying that if he didn't send weapons, the Indians would cause trouble, no matter how big the situation was.

This made the boss on the other side feel a bit overwhelmed. "Okay, okay, I'll go ask the Prime Minister for special approval."

"Thank you, Chief. I kneel down to you." Jeven Alvis pulled out a chair and really looked like he was going to kowtow.

"Don't be so silly. You must do more research inside Mexico. It will be useful when the time comes."

Jevin Alvis's expression changed, and he lowered his voice, "Director, are you going to take action?"

There was silence on the other side.

"The army will be sent to Medellin in April. We have discussed with Ochoa. Perhaps the war will start between September and December."

"We are still discussing the details. Keep your mouth shut and don't tell anyone."

Jevon Alvis was shocked, "I understand! I understand!"

After hanging up the phone, he impatiently ran to the map hanging on the wall, found Medellin, Colombia, and clicked on it twice.

This will be the focus of the world!
He suddenly felt his blood boiling, a sense of sacred mission to participate in the course of history.

"Victor must die!"

...

《Victor! Must Die! !》

This was the headline of the Financial Times on February 1993, 2.

"Victor is wantonly trampling on the international order under the slogan of drug prohibition. Drugs are not the enemy of mankind, but Victor is!"

"In the hundreds of millions of years of human history, there has never been a tyrant like him. He is extremely controlling, greedy, and murderous. He has killed all the ethnic minorities in his country, and the number of people has reached hundreds of thousands..."

"He suppressed people's beliefs and even required all Mexican women to wear open-crotch pants to satisfy his bestiality."

Victor sat on the recliner, listening to the confidential secretary reading the newspaper. Suddenly, Martin Baumann paused. Victor raised his eyelids slightly and asked, "Why didn't you continue reading?"

"The following words are a bit..."

"I've heard it all before. It's okay. Just keep reading."

Martin Bauman swallowed his saliva. "Victor is more like the sperm left by Hitman X. They are all inhumane. Drug prohibition? I want to ask where are the drugs now? Victor is deceiving himself. The world order is good, the world finance is good, and the people of the world are good. Victor launched the bombing of Medellin for his own selfish desires. Are people in Medellin drug dealers?"

"The world's biggest drug is Victor!"

"He is just a country bumpkin. What does he know about economy and order? I think we should be more drastic and eliminate him. What can he bring to us? A Latin American region that is always waging war and a society where people die every day!"

"You fucking bastard!"

Martin Bormann's body shuddered. After he finished reading, he glanced at the Führer on the recliner. Victor... smiled?
There was a smile on his face!
Damn it, who is the author of this Financial Times article?

Vance?!
This name looks familiar and is quite famous in Europe.

Oh oh oh, is it the one with a divorced father, a drug-addicted mother, an elderly grandmother, and the one that no one wants?

That guy is a loudmouth who makes a living by bashing and insulting others in Europe.

“It’s very well written.”

Victor said with a smile, and stretched out his hand. Martin Baumann hurriedly handed the newspaper to him. The latter was afraid that the other party would be furious, and the calmer he was, the more intense he would be. He quickly said, "Sir, there are also people who refute his point of view. Look at this article. The French Le Monde said that he is a fool who only knows how to curse people. He has no basis. He is simply an idiot. He should not be in the newspaper here. Instead, he should go to the US-Mexico border to be a smuggler and smuggle... eggs."

???

Egg owl!

After the civil unrest in the United States began, coupled with the increase in taxes on Mexico and Canada, and after the continuous man-made disasters, there was a natural disaster, chicken plague, and a sharp decrease in eggs. Although there are no drug dealers in Mexico, there are still people smuggling. Many people take eggs to sell next door...

Very funny.

"Should we tell him to shut up?" said Martin Baumann.

"No, don't you see?"

The other party shook his head in confusion.

"This report is a signal that European governments have begun to take sides: Medellin or us!"

Victor sniffed the air. "The war is approaching."

Martin Baumann still didn't understand. He sniffed the air hard, but couldn't smell anything.

Emperor Wei looked solemn.

No!

He has to use points to speed up the military industry!
...

(End of this chapter)