Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 719 Who's your boss? You're confused!
Of course, Felix didn't come to Morelia alone.

He brought not only guns that could kill, but also pens that could audit accounts.

Professional tasks should be left to professionals; you can't expect someone with a finance background to sell rice noodle rolls.

Moreover, his own brother would definitely provide him with the best support. If he does well this time, he'll surely rise to the top.

This is the future for the Gonzalez family.

A highly skilled team dispatched from the capital, belonging to the Auditor General's Office and the Special Investigations Bureau, has been stationed in key departments of the state government.

This group of people plunged headlong into mountains of archives and ledgers, determined to dig out all the filth buried deep within the Michoacán bureaucracy.

In the office, the only sounds were the rustling of papers turning over, and occasionally a low gasp or an angry curse.

A young auditor stared at the astronomical figures in the ledger and couldn't help but whisper to his colleague, "Damn it, these parasites are bolder than cucumbers! Just the falsely reported disability allowances alone are enough to buy all the new desks in every elementary school in the state!"

His team leader pushed up his glasses and said, "Stop lamenting. Hurry up and reconcile the accounts. No matter how well they do their books, there will always be discrepancies. Go through them one by one, check every single number!"

At the same time, Felix's actions did not stop at the city hall.

He knew that killing a few leaders would be useless if the festering sores at the grassroots level weren't burst.

He instructed the interim military control committee to launch a statewide operation.

At the order, all radio stations throughout Michoacán, on all frequencies, began broadcasting a strongly worded announcement on a loop:

To all citizens of Michoacán:

Some public officials in this state, entrusted with the trust of the people and wielding the power of the state, have completely lost their belief in serving the public, betrayed their oath of office, their souls have been corrupted by greed, and their actions have become accomplices to criminals! They are no longer the guardians of the people, but rather parasites lurking within the system, accomplices in undermining the rule of law and order.

Their crimes are an insult to every hardworking citizen of Michoacán and a betrayal of the future of this land. Such acts must not be tolerated!

Now, the state's highest authority orders:
Any citizen who has conclusive evidence that the aforementioned individuals are colluding with any criminal organization, participating in or harboring murder, drug trafficking, extortion, corruption, or any other illegal activities must report it immediately.

Reporting channels are now fully open. You can provide information anonymously or with your real name through the following methods: [+52 (55) 1234 5678].

【[email protected]】!
Anyone providing crucial clues leading to the arrest of the main perpetrator will receive a substantial reward and absolute safety. Furthermore, anyone who withholds information, attempts to harbor, or obstructs this righteous operation will be considered an accomplice and severely punished!

Many people who were unaware of what was happening were stunned when they saw the news on television and heard it on the radio.

???

Goodness…

Is the sky falling over in Michaëcan?
Even in the information age, if someone doesn't want you to know something, you won't know it, let alone in the 90s when the internet wasn't even fully widespread.

Loudspeakers were mounted on military vehicles and drove into the streets and alleys of the city, and even onto remote rural dirt roads.

……

Outside the village of Santa Ana del Alto, Michoacán, on a dusty dirt road.

Two state trooper patrol cars, with loudspeakers strapped to their roofs and blaring loudspeakers, were driving slowly.

The loudspeaker was broadcasting announcements seeking information about crimes in alternating between Spanish and the local language.

There were six state troopers in the car, led by an older officer named Hernandez.

He drove with a furrowed brow, and the other young police officers in the car also seemed somewhat uneasy.

"Boss, is this thing... really useful?" A young policeman looked out the window at the desolate scenery and scattered dilapidated mud houses. "Even ghosts wouldn't want to come to this place."

Hernandez spat: "If they say it'll be broadcast, then it'll be broadcast. Damn it, the big shots in the city have all lost their heads, and we little shrimps are lucky to be alive."

What they didn't notice was that dozens of fierce eyes were staring at them from behind the bushes and embankments by the roadside.

This is a group of members of the local indigenous armed group "Santa Ana Free People," who have close ties with certain disgraced officials in the state and are mainly engaged in drug production, smuggling, and kidnapping for ransom.

To them, the content of the broadcast was a death sentence.

"We can't let them keep shouting!" the leader of the armed militants, his face painted with graffiti, growled in a low voice. "Kill them! Burn the car, let the higher-ups know whose territory this is!"

Just as the two police cars rounded a bend, their path was suddenly blocked by several felled trees and boulders.

"Damn it! What's going on?" Hernandez slammed on the brakes.

Just as the car came to a complete stop—

"kill!!!"

On both sides of the road, dozens of armed men, wielding machetes, axes, homemade shotguns, and a few AK rifles, roared and charged out like demons emerging from the ground! They had an overwhelming numerical advantage and were clearly well-prepared.

"Holy crap! Attack!!!"

Hernandez reacted quickly, shouting as he pulled out his pistol and fired out the window.

boom!boom!
The militant at the forefront fell to the ground.

But the other police officers reacted a beat too late.

The moment they drew their guns, the rioters surged toward the car like a tidal wave.

"Kill them!"

ratt ratt ratt ratt!

Gunfire rang out.

"what--!"

As soon as a young policeman opened the car door, he was struck by three or four machetes at the same time. Blood instantly stained his police uniform. He screamed and fell to the ground, where he was instantly dismembered.

Police in another vehicle attempted to fight back from their vehicle, but the rioters outnumbered them and fearlessly grabbed the car windows with their hands, sticking their shotguns inside and firing indiscriminately.

"Pfft!"

A policeman was pierced through the chest by a spear that had been thrust through the broken car window, the tip of which protruded from his back. His eyes widened, and blood gushed from his mouth.

Hernandez emptied his pistol and swung the empty gun at a charging thug, but was immediately struck in the shoulder by an axe flying from the side, almost severing half of his arm!

He groaned in pain and staggered to the ground.

The last policeman was dragged out of the car, and countless feet trampled on him. Machetes and clubs rained down on him, and he soon fell silent.

The battle, or rather the massacre, was over in minutes.

All six police officers died in the line of duty, their deaths were extremely gruesome, and almost none of their bodies were intact.

The militants roared with victory as they began looting police cars, taking all weapons and valuables, and then dousing the police cars and the bodies with gasoline.

boom--!
Flames shot into the sky, mingling with the stench of burning rubber and corpses.

but

This is by no means an isolated case!

Almost simultaneously, violent confrontations erupted in several remote areas of Michoacán Oblast:

In Launion, a border town bordering the canton of Guerrero, a group of soldiers on their way to post notices were ambushed by a local "family" militia. Utilizing the complex mountainous terrain, the militia set traps with RPGs and heavy machine guns, destroying a military Humvee and killing eight soldiers.

As the militants retreated, they also cruelly cut off the ears of the fallen soldiers as trophies.

They also sprayed a message on the ground: "We will always fight for ourselves."

In Argiya, a town in the heart of the drug-producing "Golden Triangle," a group of masked gunmen stormed into a makeshift "citizen reporting point" in broad daylight and indiscriminately opened fire on the people inside with grenades and automatic weapons.

The two guards responsible for the defense fought back fiercely, killing four attackers, but a civilian official and two volunteers at the reporting point were killed, and the scene was covered in blood.

As the attackers retreated, they wrote in blood on the wall: "This is what happens to informers!"

In the port city of Lazarus, a group of dockworkers incited unsuspecting workers to storm the port authority building under the pretext of "opposing the military takeover and protecting the right to work."

They clashed violently with the guards using steel pipes and Molotov cocktails, burned several military vehicles, and attempted to seize weapons.

After repeated warning shots failed to deter the rioters, soldiers were forced to open fire, killing more than ten onlookers before bringing the situation under control. Thick smoke billowed near the port, resembling a battlefield. The news quickly reached Morelia's temporary command center.

As Felix stared at the glaring red circles and listened to his officers' deep, urgent reports, the muscles on his face gradually tightened, eventually solidifying into a terrifying, iron-blue hue.

"Six police officers from Santa Ana died in the line of duty and their bodies were burned..."

"The Raunion patrol was ambushed; eight men were killed, their ears cut off..."

"A whistleblower station in Argyria was bloodily attacked; civilian volunteers were killed..."

"The Port Authority of Lazarus was stormed, and rioters seized weapons..."

Each one was more tragic and more rampant than the last!
"Hold!"

Felix kicked over the metal trash can next to him, scattering cigarette butts and waste paper all over the ground.

His chest heaved violently, and the banditry he had developed on Guadalupe Island and nurtured by his family background could no longer be suppressed and erupted instantly.

He's been holding back for a long time. Do you think he doesn't have a temper?

He stood with his hands on his hips, pacing back and forth in the office like an enraged lion, before suddenly smashing the cigarette he had just lit onto the ground, crushing it to dust with the thick sole of his military boot.

"They've rebelled! They've all fucking rebelled!"

He erupted in a tirade, his voice hoarse with rage, "What is this? This is rebellion! This is defiance! Do they think they can scare us by killing a few of us and burning a few cars?!"

He stopped abruptly, his eyes bloodshot, and roared outside, "Get me the Michoacán State Military Command! Get Espinosa to me right now! Immediately!"

The command was executed swiftly.

Less than twenty minutes later, Colonel Espinosa, commander of the Michoacán Regional Military District, rushed to the command center. A hint of worry and resistance was visible on his face.

Anyone familiar with the Viktor era knows that many factions emerged after he came to power.

For example, the Northern faction, based on the group Victor had when he was governor of Tijuana.

There are also Southerners, moderates, hardliners, fence-sitters, and so on—the list goes on and on. After all, wherever there are people, there is a social hierarchy (I actually wanted to say that, but I didn't dare).
even!

Even those below them have their own cliques.

"Felick."

Espinosa maintained basic courtesy, but his tone was not warm, and he didn't even address her as "sir."

Felix didn't mince words with him, his tone aggressive: "Colonel Espinosa, you've seen it all? Large-scale armed rebellions have broken out in multiple areas across the state, with attacks on military and police forces and the killing of public officials! I now order you, with temporary supreme authority, to immediately mobilize all available troops under your command, declare a state of emergency across the state, and impose a curfew! All towns, send the army in, search! Suppress! I want to see the heads of those murderers hanging on the city walls!"

Espinosa's expression shifted several times. He took a deep breath, seemingly suppressing his emotions, but ultimately shook his head: "I can't do that."

Felix's eyes widened in surprise: "What did you say?"

"My soldiers' guns are meant to be pointed at foreign enemies and clear-cut bandits, not at the people under my rule!"

Espinosa raised her voice, "The situation is chaotic right now, and many of those involved may just be ordinary civilians who have been incited! Sending a large army into the city rashly and implementing a repressive policy will only cause more innocent casualties and exacerbate the conflict! I refuse to carry out such an order! We should focus on appeasement and precise strikes..."

Felix stepped forward, almost touching Espinosa's face, his eyes fiercely fixed on him: "I'll ask you one last time, your troops, move or not?"

Espinosa shook her head. "I stand by my judgment! I am the commander of the Michoacán Regional Military District, and I have a responsibility..."

"You're not anymore!"

Felix abruptly interrupted him, his voice firm and leaving no room for negotiation.

"Based on the authorization of the Military Control Council and the current state of emergency, I, Felix González, in my capacity as the interim supreme commander of Michoacán, hereby relieve you, the commander of the Michoacán Military District, of all your duties! Effective immediately!"

Colonel Espinosa was stunned. His eyes widened in disbelief as he pointed at Felix, his fingers trembling with rage: "You... what right do you have?! I am an active-duty colonel appointed by the Ministry of Defense! You have no right to relieve me of my military post! This is an overreach! It's unconstitutional!"

“Power?” Felix scoffed, his movements as swift as lightning as he drew the silver Colt revolver from his waist, snapped the hammer open, and pressed it directly against Espinosa’s forehead!
Felix brought his face close to his, almost feeling the other's heavy breathing. He lowered his voice, enunciating each word with a dangerous undertone:

"Talk to me about power? I am power right now! You believe me or not, I'll blow your head off right here and then tell my brother and Leader Victor that you, Colonel Espinosa, colluded with local militias and plotted a rebellion, and I'll execute you on the spot! You'll see if Secretary Kennedy and Leader Victor believe you or me? At most, they'll put me in solitary confinement for a few days!"

Espinosa opened her mouth, looking into Felix's eyes, which were devoid of warmth, filled only with madness and ruthlessness, a chill ran from the soles of her feet straight to the top of her head.

He had no doubt that this young man with such powerful connections would actually dare to do this! Trying to reason with a "second-generation" who held the power of life and death and didn't follow the rules? He must have lost his mind!
All his resistance and anger vanished instantly in the face of absolute power and influence. His lips trembled, and in the end, he didn't dare utter another word.

Felix sheathed his gun and waved towards the door: "Someone come here!"

Two fierce-looking guards rushed in immediately.

"Take this former commander to the lounge and let him calm down! No one is allowed to contact him without my orders!"

"Yes!"

The soldiers unceremoniously grabbed Espinosa, who seemed to have aged ten years in an instant, and dragged him away.

After dealing with the disobedient military commander, Felix's anger hadn't completely subsided. He knew he had to report this immediately and get support from the top. He took a deep breath, and his first thought was to call his older brother.

The call was answered quickly.

“Brother! In Michoacán…” Felix quickly recounted the situation, including his decisive dismissal of Espinosa.

Casare on the other side listened quietly, and then…

"Nonsense!"

Casare's curses came through the receiver, filled with exasperation: "Felike! Are you out of your mind? Am I your boss? Who the hell is your direct superior now? It's Leader Victor! Why are you calling me?! Do I have to teach you the reporting process? Call again! Call the Leader's office!"

"Click!" The phone was hung up.

Felix held the busy signal phone receiver, paused for a moment, and then suddenly realized his elder brother's intention—this was not a family matter, but a national matter, and the most formal and direct channels had to be used to obtain the most legitimate authorization and avoid any possible subsequent trouble.

He cursed under his breath, then immediately picked up the encrypted phone again and dialed the dedicated line to the leader's office at the National Palace in Mexico City.

The call was answered by the attendant's office. After identifying himself and explaining the urgency of the situation, and after a brief wait, a calm, slightly hoarse voice, yet imbued with an invisible authority, rang out from the other end of the receiver.

"I am Victor."

Felix immediately straightened his back, as if the other person could see him. He reported, in the most concise and clear possible language, on his response to the large-scale violent confrontation in Michoacán and the decisive dismissal of Colonel Espinosa. He concluded by emphasizing, "Leader, the situation is no longer just about cleaning up corruption; it's about someone taking advantage of the situation to cause trouble and challenge authority! We must quell it with the most resolute measures!"

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, a brief moment that made Felix's heart skip a beat.

Then, Viktor's voice rang out again, calm yet carrying an undeniable power:
“You did the right thing, Felix.”

These words were like a reassuring pill, instantly putting Felix at ease.

Viktor continued, “I am satisfied that you are in full charge of the affairs of Michoacán. Espinosa was cowardly and missed opportunities, so it is right to remove him from his post. Commander Erich Falkingham of the Southern Theater is lax in his management and has poor judgment of people. I will personally call him and make him conduct a thorough self-examination.”

Hearing this, Felix felt much more at ease.

Viktor's next arrangement further invigorated him:
"The new commander of the Michoacán Military District is Joseph Joffre. In addition, Army Chief of Staff Sigmar Lister will personally go to Michoacán for a period of time to coordinate the forces of the surrounding military districts and provide support for you."

“Go ahead and do it without any worries. What I want to see is a Michoacán state that is completely cleaned up and restored to order.”

"Yes, leader! I guarantee the mission will be accomplished!" Felix responded loudly, feeling full of strength and confidence.

Joseph Joffre was once the chief sergeant, later demoted, and deeply trusted.

After hanging up the phone, a ruthless glint flashed in his eyes.

Joffre and Liszt are coming? Great! One is good at tackling tough challenges, and the other can keep all the monsters and demons in check.

His voice was resolute:
"Give me the order!"

"The entire state is now under wartime control! An indefinite curfew is in effect!"

"All armed forces, mobilize at the highest operational level! Get into the city! Suppress the rebellion!"

"Tell all soldiers that anyone encountering armed resistance should be killed on sight!"

I'll kill you until your heads roll!

...(The content of this chapter is purely fictional!)...

(End of this chapter)