Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 700 The Death Knell of Belize!

October 2, Mexico City International Airport.

A Boeing 747 bearing the Cathay Pacific logo slowly landed on the runway.

Many tourists and those picking up passengers noticed an unusual scene: a convoy of six black Chevrolets drove directly into the restricted area inside the airport and stopped near the jet bridge.

The car door opened, and more than a dozen Mexican security personnel dressed in black suits, wearing sunglasses, and with communication cables hanging from their ears quickly got out and patrolled the surroundings.

A man in a high-ranking police officer's uniform stepped out of the lead car; he was Friedrich Carl Eberstein, Mexico's Deputy Police Chief and the Chief of Police of the capital.

"Look over there, what important person has arrived?"

"If government vehicles can drive in, they must be important people."

Passengers waiting for their flights stopped and looked around curiously, with many taking out portable cameras to take photos and videos of the convoy and Deputy Minister Eberstein.

As the walkway opened, passengers began to pour out. When they saw the vehicles, they hesitated and exchanged glances.

Soon, a small group of distinctly different-looking people with Eastern features appeared at the entrance of the passage.

There were about sixteen or seventeen of them, dressed in matching dark suits, both men and women, and they all looked very capable.

The leader was a Chinese man in his early forties. He spotted Deputy Secretary Eberstein waiting outside and led his men straight over.

Eberstein greeted him with a polite smile and extended his hand.

“Welcome to Mexico City, sir. You must be tired from your journey,” he said in English.

The senior superintendent of Hong Kong Police Force firmly shook Eberstein's hand and responded in fluent English with a Cantonese accent: "Thank you for personally welcoming me, Deputy Chief. I am Li Wenbin, senior superintendent of the Organized Crime and Triad Bureau (OCTB) of the Hong Kong Police Force. This is my colleague, Zheng Chuyao, superintendent of the Narcotics Bureau (NB)."

He turned to introduce a short-haired woman beside him, who nodded and extended her hand to Eberstein.

"Welcome everyone, Superintendent Li, Superintendent Zheng." Eberstein shook hands with Zheng Chuyao. "The journey must be long and you must be tired. The vehicles are ready, I will take you to the hotel first."

Without much small talk, we quickly got into the car under the protection of security personnel.

Guided by airport ground support vehicles, the convoy left the airport's special access road, avoiding congestion in public areas, and merged into the traffic flow on the airport expressway.

Senior Superintendent Li Wenbin and Superintendent Zheng Chuyao rode in the same car with Eberstein.

Through the car window, Epstein smiled and said, “Mexico City is a very vibrant city. Since you’ve come all this way, you can rest and adjust for a couple of days to get over your jet lag. I can arrange for someone to take you to visit the Zócalo (Constitution Square), the National Museum of Anthropology, or to try some authentic Mexican food, such as mole sauce and tacos.”

Senior Superintendent Li Wenbin gazed out the window at the modern elevated highways rushing past and the towering skyscrapers in the distance, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes.

He smiled slightly when he heard Epstein's suggestion to tour the city, but his gaze remained fixed on the city skyline outside the window.

“Thank you for your kind offer, Mr. Deputy Minister. Mexico City… is actually quite familiar to me.”

“In the late 1980s, around 1988 or 1989, I served as an Interpol liaison officer in France. At the request of the Mexican government at the time, I made a brief visit here and participated in some... well, exchanges and technical assistance projects on the drug issue.”

Eberstein turned his head with slight surprise: "Oh? Superintendent Lee has this background?"

"Yes, I was very young back then."

Li Wenbin sighed softly and pointed out the window to an area that now looks like a bustling commercial district. "I remember that area, roughly in that direction, was a huge slum called 'Nezavarkoyotl City,' right? Densely packed, dilapidated houses, muddy roads, drug dealers and gangs running rampant, it was practically a lawless place. Our vehicles didn't even dare to enter easily; we could only look around from the outside under heavy protection from the military and police."

His finger moved in another direction: "And over there, near the old town, there were many abandoned factories that became drug processing dens and battlefields for gang fights. You could often hear gunshots at night. To be honest, our communication with the Mexican side at that time was very difficult, even somewhat desperate. We provided some intelligence analysis and ideas for linking cases, but faced with that kind of deeply entrenched situation where violence had seeped into the bone, it felt like trying to put out a forest fire with a cup of water."

Li Wenbin paused, his voice filled with emotion: "How many years has it been? Only five or six years. The chaotic, dangerous Mexico City I remember, shrouded in the shadow of drugs, has almost disappeared."

He pointed to the clean streets, orderly traffic, patrolling police, and the clearly newly built upscale community in the distance: "The changes are too great, it's like a complete upheaval. That suffocating sense of fear is gone, replaced by a sense of order and vitality. I can hardly imagine what kind of powerful strength and determination it would take to accomplish such an almost impossible transformation."

He turned to look at Epstein with a deep sense of inquiry: "Secretary Epstein, if I may be so bold, as a professional, I am well aware of the extreme complexity of anti-drug work. How exactly did Mexico manage to do it? It is almost a world miracle. There are many rumors about Mr. Victor's methods, but the results I have witnessed firsthand are truly remarkable."

In the mouths of many foreign news media outlets…

Mexico, like Tokyo, is not free.

After listening, Undersecretary Eberstein's face lit up with pride, and he pondered for a moment:
“Superintendent Li is a true expert. He saw the key point at a glance. Yes, Mexico in the past, especially Mexico City, was indeed as you remember it, or even worse. Changing all this will not rely on ordinary means.”

“Mr. Victor firmly believed that to combat rampant evil, the ultimate order and power were needed. He purged a large number of corrupt elements within the system to ensure that orders could be executed without hindrance.”

Eberstein paused, “He implemented an absolute zero-tolerance policy for any form of drug crime and the corruption associated with it. The law was given maximum force and was enforced without fail. This process… was inevitably accompanied by pain and huge costs, but the result was that we regained control of the city.”

“Order and power…” Li Wenbin murmured, seemingly lost in thought. “I understand, Mr. Deputy Minister. This does indeed provide a very important background understanding for our future cooperation.”

He already knew in his heart that they were about to deal with a highly centralized, incredibly efficient, and ruthless law enforcement machine.

Working with such a force would be highly efficient.

Eberstein nodded: "Our goals are aligned, Superintendent Li and Superintendent Zheng, which is to destroy the 'extraterrestrial' network. I hope our cooperation will be equally efficient and effective. The magistrate has ordered all law enforcement agencies in Mexico to fully cooperate with the task force."

“We understand, Mr. Deputy Minister.” Li Wenbin nodded solemnly. “Combating such rampant transnational drug crimes requires a firm resolve and strong execution. Our purpose on this trip is clear: to do everything in our power to cooperate with Mexico and destroy this network.”

The convoy arrived at a hotel on Reform Avenue. Eberstein personally escorted everyone to the lobby, made all the arrangements, and then took his leave, agreeing to hold a formal case briefing and joint task force inauguration ceremony at police headquarters the following morning.

The long flight was indeed tiring, and the members of the Hong Kong team went back to their rooms to rest.

In the evening, Li Wenbin and Zheng Chuyao received a notification from Eberstein that two high-ranking officials from Mexico wished to have a working dinner with them.

Dinner was arranged in a private room inside the hotel.

When Li Wenbin and Zheng Chuyao entered the private room accompanied by Eberstein.

One of them is Mr. Robert Bill, the current Federal Minister of Public Security of Mexico.

The other chubby, smiling guy is Casare. He's wearing gold-rimmed glasses, and he looks quite composed.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries and introductions, everyone took their seats.

Minister Bill first raised his glass to welcome the Hong Kong expert team on behalf of the Mexican government.

“Superintendent Li, Superintendent Zheng, your presence is of utmost importance.” Minister Bill’s tone was serious and sincere.

"'Extraterrestrial objects' are not just drugs, but a strategic weapon that is destroying social order in Europe, and now its dark hand is trying to reach into the homeland we are trying to rebuild. Mr. Victor has given the highest directive: nip it in the bud at all costs."

His gaze swept over Li Wenbin and Zheng Chuyao: "Please forgive my directness, but in Mexico, our laws have only one attitude towards drug crimes: zero tolerance. Our policy is also very simple: anyone, no matter who they are or what their status is, whoever touches or traffics drugs on Mexican soil will only face one outcome."

"There is only one dead end."

Li Wenbin took a deep breath, put down his wine glass, and solemnly replied: "Mr. Prime Minister, Mr. Minister, please rest assured that the Hong Kong Police Force shares the same position as you on this matter. Drug traffickers are the common enemy of mankind, and drug prohibition is a global consensus. What we bring is professional investigative technology, abundant intelligence resources, and a deep understanding of Chinese criminal networks. Our aim is to cooperate and eradicate this scourge. We will never tolerate any form of evil."

"Drugs deserve to go to hell."

……

Meanwhile, in a luxury villa in the Belize Special Economic Zone.

The wealthy second-generation Alvarez was restless in his room.

Ever since he witnessed Carlos consuming that "alien substance" in the casino's VIP room that night, he has been gripped by immense fear and anxiety.

He dared not go out again, and even dared not answer calls from his friends, especially Carlos and the casino manager Fermín.

His unusual behavior caught his parents' attention.

His father, American businessman Alvarez, leaned against the study doorframe, watching his son once again irritably decline a friend's party invitation, and couldn't help but say, "Hey kid, what's wrong with you these days? Have you become a shut-in? This isn't like you. There are so many fun places to go in the Special Economic Zone at night, why don't you go out?"

Alvarez's eyes flickered, and he gave a vague reply: "Nothing, Dad, I'm just a little tired and want to rest for a few days." At that moment, his mother, former professional boxer Marta, came over with a plate of fruit.

She has sharp eyes and a physique far stronger than the average woman; after all, she's a former professional player.

She immediately noticed something was wrong with her son. She slammed the fruit plate down on the table, put her hands on her hips, and scrutinized Alvarez: "Alex, look at me. You're definitely hiding something from us. You look like you've seen a ghost! Have you gotten into some trouble outside? Gambling debts? Or have you messed with someone you shouldn't have?"

A mother's intuition is always frighteningly accurate.

Alvarez panicked, but tried to remain calm by raising his voice: "No! Mom, what trouble could I possibly be causing? I just want some peace and quiet! Can you please leave me alone!"

"I don't care about you?" Marta's brows furrowed, her tone turning stern. "You've always been like this when you lie! The louder your voice, the more guilty you are! Tell me! What exactly happened?!"

"Don't make me beat you."

When his mother pointed out his secret and he thought about the possibility that his secret could be used against him, Alvarez lost control of his emotions instantly.

He jumped up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, shouting excitedly, "I said no, and I mean no! Aren't you guys annoying me?! Can't you give me some space?!"

After saying that, he turned around and tried to rush out of the study and hide back in his room.

However, he underestimated his mother's reaction speed and fighting ability. The instant he turned around, Ms. Marta darted forward, her right leg sweeping out like a whip, striking Alvarez precisely in the back of his knee.

"boom!"

"Ah!" Alvarez screamed, losing his balance and falling forward onto the carpet in a sorry state.

Before he could react, Marta had already straddled his back, pressed her knee against his lower back, grabbed his hair with one hand, and clenched her fist with the other, mercilessly delivering several heavy blows to his shoulders and the back of his head, avoiding vital areas.

"Ouch! Mom! It hurts! Stop hitting me!" Alvarez cried out in pain and struggled, but he was powerless to fight back under the control of the former professional player.

"Tell me or not, you brat! You dare yell at me and run away!" Marta shouted as she hit him, showing no mercy.

Old Alvarez watched in stunned silence, trying to intervene: "Marta, darling! Stop fighting! Ask them properly! Can't you just ask them properly?"

"Ask nicely? Does he look like someone who would ask nicely?!"

Marta roared, "You deserve a beating! We let you off too far in America, and now you think you're all lawless here?! Tell me! What trouble have you gotten yourself into?!"

Alvarez was seeing stars from the beating. His mental defenses finally crumbled under the physical pain and immense fear. He cried out in a sob, "Stop hitting me! I'll talk! I'll talk! It's drugs! Carlos... he... he touched that new drug! 'Alien stuff'! Right here in the casino, they might have filmed it. I'm scared, I'm scared they'll come after me, I'm scared of being arrested! Victor's men will kill us!"

His cries were like thunder, instantly echoing in the study.

Marta's waving fist stopped in mid-air, her anger turning into astonishment and disbelief.

Old Alvarez was completely stunned, his mouth agape, his face turning deathly pale.

"An...something from outer space?" Old Alvarez's voice trembled. "In...in the special zone? In the casino?"

Fear, like an icy tide, instantly overwhelmed this once wealthy and peaceful family. They knew better than anyone what being associated with those three words meant in Viktor's territory.

Marta slowly got up from her son, looking at him crying on the ground with a complicated expression, then at her terrified husband. She took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil in her heart, and said in an unprecedentedly serious tone:

"Get up and tell us everything, word for word, now, immediately!"

Alvarez lay on the carpet, sobbing, and recounted in broken sentences the night he saw Carlos using "extraterrestrial substances" in the casino's VIP room, as well as the threatening words spoken by casino manager Fermín.

"He...he said it was the ultimate pleasure, and that it would be foolish not to try it. That bastard Carlos, he took it, and he looks horrible. Fermín also said we were welcome to come often, that it was absolutely safe there, but...I don't feel that way,"

Old Alvarez's face turned somewhat pale after hearing this.

He staggered, leaning against the desk, his voice trembling: "God, how dare they! On Viktor's turf, this... this is a death sentence! No, something worse than death!"

He grabbed his hair and stammered, "No, we can't stay here! Pack your things and leave right now! Go back to America! Leave tonight!"

"Run? Where do you think you can run to?!"

Marta interrupted her husband sharply. Although she was also terrified, as someone who had faced heavy blows in the ring before, her fear quickly transformed into a kind of calm and toughness in an extreme situation.

“Do you think we can escape? If that Fermín is really as my son says, since he dared to do such a thing, he must be taking precautions to prevent people from escaping! There are probably people watching us at the airport and intersections. Our family of foreigners is too conspicuous. Where can we run to? If we get caught, that would truly be a dead end!”

She took a deep breath, her gaze sharp as she fixed her son on the ground, her eyes so intense it seemed she wanted to peel away his skin to see the truth: "Alex! Look at me! Tell me honestly, did you touch that thing or not? Not even a drop! I want the truth!"

"No! Really, no! Mom! I swear!"

Alvarez struggled to sit up, his face a mess of tears and carpet fibers. "I was terrified. I just thought that thing was really weird. Carlos looked so scary. I didn't touch it! I swear to God!"

Hearing her son's firm denial, Marta's tense jawline seemed to relax a millimeter—a stroke of luck amidst misfortune. As long as he wasn't involved with drugs, there was still room for maneuver. She pressed on, "Then what are you afraid of? They have something on you?"

Alvarez's expression instantly turned extremely awkward, ashamed, and fearful; his eyes darted away, and his voice suddenly lowered.

"Speak!" Marta lost her patience and growled.

I like men!

Alvarez practically screamed it out with his eyes closed. After he finished, he felt all his strength drain away, and he collapsed, unable to bear looking at his parents' reactions. "I came out... I was drunk at the casino, and I probably told Carlos or someone else. Fermín definitely knows. They said if I didn't behave, they'd make it public knowledge, let everyone know that the Alvarez family's son is a disgusting homosexual..."

In an instant, the study fell into a deathly silence.

You can hear the needle drop.

Old Alvarez froze completely, mouth agape, staring at his son with a look of shock, confusion, and an indescribable mix of emotions.

Marta was also stunned.

She had considered all sorts of possibilities: gambling debts, fighting and injuring someone, even getting involved with some powerful man's mistress, but she never expected this. She looked at her son curled up on the ground, trembling with fear and shame, looking even more vulnerable and helpless than when she had just beaten him.

After a few seconds of suffocating silence.

Marta exhaled a breath of stale air, her expression quickly shifting from astonishment to an almost fierce determination.

She stepped forward, and instead of continuing to beat him, she grabbed her son and pulled him up from the ground in a rather rough manner.

"Just because of this?" Her voice was unusually calm, even tinged with sarcasm. "They want to use this to threaten you? To threaten us?"

Alvarez was bewildered by his mother's reaction and nodded blankly.

“Listen, Alex Alvarez.”

Marta grabbed her son's shoulders and forced him to look at her. "Whether you like men or women is your own business. You may be a fool in this matter, easily trusting people you shouldn't have, but that's not a crime, nor is it a reason for them to blackmail you into doing drugs!"

She released her son, turned to her equally shocked husband, and said firmly, "We're not going anywhere! Running away won't solve anything, it will only make us look easier to bully and get us killed faster!"

"Then, what should we do?" Old Alvarez was completely at a loss.

"What should we do?" Marta's eyes flashed with a fierce glint. "Since the Special District is under Mr. Victor's rule, and he hates drugs the most, then we'll tell what we know to the people who need to know!"

"Are you crazy?! Go and report it? What about our son..." Old Alvarez exclaimed in horror.

"It's precisely because he didn't touch it that we have the right to report him!"

Marta's logic was terrifyingly clear: "We are victims, potential victims. Reporting this behavior is upholding Mr. Victor's rules! Only in this way can we be safe and completely get rid of those people's threats, instead of hiding in our rooms waiting to die like this!"

"Moreover, whoever speaks first has the initiative."

……

(End of this chapter)