Working as a police officer in Mexico

Clatter!

Viktor propped his elbows on the table and lit a cigarette.

He squinted and blew, the smoke coming out of his mouth only to go back into his nostrils.

Looking down, he saw a "plan" on the table.

It detailed the close alignment of "People's League" relations, including joint military deployments in the United States and the establishment of a joint armed observation post at Girón Beach in Cuba, with each country sending 200-400 personnel to be stationed there for mutual learning and progress.

In reality, it was to monitor the United States and to provide support in case the US suddenly attacked Cuba.

It’s all about unity!

The plan also included how to mess with Canada.

The best way to destroy a country is to start with its ideology, public safety, and beliefs, for example…

Spend about 20 million pesos to start some intermediary services in India, and then… send them to Canada.

Or, open some so-called shell companies that don't actually operate, and then, under the guise of traveling abroad, take them to Canada and then dump them there.

They're like maggots.

When you see one, you find a whole bunch.

The world will be shocked.

It won't have an immediate effect, but in the long run, it will definitely cause conflicts with the locals because they are too unhygienic.

Viktor carefully read it several times, and the whole thing was just two words: cannibalism!

But the world is a jungle; it's better for others to die than for oneself to die.

He readily picked up a pen, scribbled his name on it, stamped his seal, and pressed the phone, "Junger, come in here."

The personal secretary on the other end responded, and in a dozen seconds, walked over from next door.

"Give this to Director-General Jeff Bennett."

Traud Junger nodded, took it with both hands, and was about to leave when he heard Viktor call out, "Get me a midnight snack."

"What kind of food do you need?"

"Get me a bowl of noodles with gravy and an egg."

"Yes, sir."

Viktor's government agency had good food, with many dishes in the cafeteria, and it was open 24 hours a day because the National Palace hub was very busy, including Chinese food, which was poached from Chinatown.

He just liked this.

Traud Junger waited for a while, and after the general didn't give any more instructions, slowly backed out of the office.

Ding-dong~

The clock hanging on the wall rang on time…

Midnight!

Meanwhile, in the important port city of Quintana Roo—Chiquila.

A very small-scale battle took place, and the Mexican Navy effortlessly occupied it, really, just firing two missiles at the port…

Then the two battalions of the Marine Cavalry Division 1 raided…

Instant occupation.

Carl Dönitz, holding the rank of Major General, stood on the deck with binoculars, looking at the somewhat deserted pier, and shook his head, "Such a strategic location, yet no one is guarding it."

It's less than 120 kilometers from the heart of Cancun!

Colonel Günther Lütjens of the 1st Cavalry Division next to him had the face of a dead man's coffin lid, very upright, but when he spoke, he was a bit sarcastic, "Drug dealers are always drug dealers, they can't get on the stage, the only reason they've persisted for so long is the sponsorship of American bastards, British mongrels and Canadian dog Xs, once that's gone, what else do they have left?"

As he spoke, he seemed to get heated, pointing into the distance, "Land here, Cancun will fall, my department will sweep the south, it's as easy as flipping a hand."

Carl Dönitz nodded, frowned tightly, and suddenly said, "What if we send troops straight to Merida, what do you think?"

Günther Lütjens was stunned when he heard this, and then became excited, "It will definitely work, the upper echelons will run away, Cancun will riot, Merida will definitely be the same, a division, no, no, a regiment, we can take it down, Commander, let's do it, I'm willing to be the vanguard."

"But headquarters' order is to go to Cancun…"

"Then split the troops!" Günther Lütjens said decisively.

The main thing is that the temptation is too great, that's Merida, if we take it down, the south is set!

"I'll report to the Minister of Defense."

Carl Dönitz: "You arrange for the soldiers to land."

"Okay!"

Eleven troop carriers began to approach the land, the ramp was lowered, and the Fire Lizard tanks came down first, followed by infantry fighting vehicles.

The Marine Cavalry Division is actually a landing division!

They can rely on the heavy firepower of warships to land on the port at the first time, and carry out occupation, they don't lack tanks in terms of heavy weapons, but the artillery is not as good as the army, other weapons and equipment are even better, after all, warships can park helicopters to provide ground support.

"Quick, quick, keep up…"

Everywhere you could hear junior officers shouting loudly, with excited expressions.

"Sergeant Fritz, I want to pee." A recruit with the rank of private, with a baby face, who looked very young, spoke to his companion in front.

"Lian En, are you scared?"

A comrade next to him couldn't help laughing.

"Scared? Bah! There's nothing that can scare me yet, I'm telling you, I dared to steal money from drug dealers when I was 7 years old, and I started following my dad as a bounty hunter when I was 11…"

The baby-faced man shouted in a low voice, somewhat dissatisfied.

Fritz Klingenberg, walking in front, had the rank of corporal, but there was a red star on his chest, which meant that he was "promoted through military literacy."

In order to quickly tap into military talents and effectively promote morale, the Mexican army implemented a "promotion system", that is, if you are a recruit, but you think that after a few months of training, your tactics and individual skills are sufficient, you can apply for promotion, with only one chance per person per year, and it is held jointly.

Internal competition, mutual pursuit.

As a result, this kind of rank competition is often in full swing.

The rank is related to welfare benefits, think about it, if you don't pass, it will take a year from recruit to private first class, a year from private first class to corporal, and three years from corporal to sergeant, just such a time, many people will lose their fighting spirit.

Under such competition, a large number of military talents with super strong abilities have emerged.

Fritz Klingenberg threw a grenade 98 meters, breaking the all-Mexican army record, and was awarded the first-class merit, promoted to corporal, but the naval headquarters has already applied for him to be an officer, as long as he goes to school for a year of training, he can be a lieutenant.

He is now serving as a squad leader, and when he heard everyone arguing, he raised the corner of his mouth, but still reprimanded, "Don't talk on the march, if you are discovered by the military discipline officer, I think you will be confined."

Everyone was shocked when they heard this, and they closed their mouths.

"Don't be afraid, there are about 6,000 of us this time, and our weapons and equipment are better than the drug dealers, the advantage is on our side, if you make a great contribution, you will be notified nationwide, I think your family grave will explode with laughter, soldiers should be happy to hear about the war!"

Well…

There is a bit of a political X tone.

The pie is also drawn very well, and the eyes of several people in the class are shining, fantasizing about the scene of "bragging about military exploits".

Which man doesn't have the fantasy of showing off in front of people?

"Military command orders, the 211th Regiment and the 222nd Regiment of the 1st Division will go north to Merida, and all units will quickly rest!"

"The 223rd and 224th Regiments will continue to advance towards Cancun!"

At this time, the order came from the intercom of the company commander not far away. In wartime, there is no time to have a meeting, and it basically goes directly to the grassroots level.

Fritz Klingenberg was stunned…

"What? Are we going to Merida? Then we're not going to Cancun." Baby-faced Lian En looked shocked.

"Quick, quickly take biscuits from your backpacks to fill your stomachs, we don't have time to stop and cook." Fritz narrowed his eyes and his tone sank, he was a smart man, and he already knew what the military command meant.

Sure enough, after a while, the 211th Regiment he was in issued an order that everyone should go north, without resting, and eat compressed biscuits while walking.

"Damn it… it's 400 kilometers from Chiquila to Merida, are we going to run there?" A soldier who was familiar with the geography lowered his voice.

Even if you run and break your legs, you won't get there.

By the time you get there, everything will be cold.

However, Carl Dönitz must have considered this, he ordered all the trucks in the port to be "requisitioned", and then carried two companies of the 211th Regiment first, and took down the city of Tizimin in the middle of the road, which has a transfer station, and there must be freight trucks, grab them all.

When he reported the news to the Minister of Defense, the other party didn't scold him, but turned to ask the General Staff, and the other party said that they would give all assistance, and ordered the 5th Army in the state of Campeche to go south in part, and the two sides would attack from both sides to take down Merida!

Carl Dönitz looked at Günther Lütjens and said, "Man can conquer nature, but we must pay attention to the safety of the march, although the drug dealers are internally chaotic, the more this is the case, the more vigilant we must be."

"I understand, I guarantee to take Merida!"

Carl Dönitz patted him on the shoulder, "For Mexico."

"For the General!"

It can only be said that what kind of leader has what kind of soldiers.

Viktor is a madman.

The people below are not kind either.

……

May 27, 00:31.

Cancun.

A passenger plane flashing red lights shouted to the airport below, hoping to land. There is actually not much oil and water here. The drug dealers are busy robbing the city. Although it is not safe here, it is still okay.

At least…

No one has come to make trouble yet.

Of course, it is also because this is in the suburbs of Cancun, about 6 kilometers away.

They are all busy robbing inside.

When the airport staff heard the news from the tower that the plane was going to land, they were also confused.

Didn't you read the news?

Don't you know what the situation is in Cancun now?

"My plane is flying from Guatemala to the United States. There is a problem with the plane. I need to make an emergency landing!" The captain shouted loudly into the radio.

The staff in the tower looked at the supervisor next to him.

The latter sighed, "Consider them unlucky, coming to Cancun at this time, let them land, by the way, prepare the fire truck and ambulance."

"Understood!"

"CZ14124, permission to make an emergency landing, Cancun International Airport will clear the runway for you."

Immediately afterwards, alarm bells flashed throughout the airport, and a pitiful fire truck and an ambulance were seen driving out of the warehouse.

It's just so poor…

Everyone nervously watched a Tu-214, oh? It's still a Soviet plane.

Does Guatemalan Airlines have this?

But no one cared about this question, they just watched nervously, after all, no one would joke about a plane crash, just like a woman would not joke about her body.

When the plane slowly landed and slid smoothly on the runway, the supervisor breathed a sigh of relief, but someone whispered, "This… doesn't it look like a plane that had an accident?"

?!??

The supervisor was stunned, and stood in the tower looking at the Tu-214. After the plane stopped, the fire truck and ambulance rushed up, and the escape airbag of the plane popped out. Then they saw a rare scene that they would never see in their lives.

Fully armed soldiers slid down from above, quickly controlled the vehicles, and rushed towards the tower.

Fuck!

I'm playing an act of kindness with you, and you're playing a surprise attack on me?!

Shit!

Dirty, those who play with military tactics are really too dirty!

The supervisor shivered and ran away, but it was too late. There was a bang, the tower door was kicked open, and two tall soldiers in black military uniforms and masks walked in…

"Don't kill me! Don't kill me!" A staff member burst into tears.

This confused the soldiers who came in.

"From now on, the Mexican government army will take over here." One of them said in a deep voice.

Ah?

Regular army?

The Mexican government army has entered?

There was a silence in the tower.

"Officer, I am a good citizen!" The supervisor shouted loudly.

This unit is actually the 141st Special Operations Brigade of the Army. After receiving the order, the Army felt that parachuting was too rough and dangerous, and no one knew when they would fall to their deaths. The night visibility was too low.

So…

John MacTavish came up with a way to disguise themselves as a passenger plane, and all the seats were removed, which is why they left later than the naval special forces.

All rely on the head.

Fighting and killing must also pay attention to strategy.

Look, isn't it effortless now?

John MacTavish left a small team to control the tower, and the remaining 300 armed men rushed to Cancun for 6 kilometers carrying weapons and ammunition.

At 1:45.

The 141st Special Operations Brigade infiltrated the city, but the destination was not in the embassy district, but in the southern city hall building.

The walls are thick and can resist shelling, and the building is high, about 9 floors, which can be defended layer by layer and delay time, but no one should be so ignorant as to attack them, right?

And Cancun's radio station is on the 6th floor of the building. When the whole city is notified and the army is announced to be stationed, do you think anyone in Cancun, which has long been leaderless, will stick to it?

The people below may be robbing head-on, but the leaders above will definitely run away.

The Southern Drug Trafficking Alliance is said to be a government, but it is very much like a group of heroes fighting for hegemony. If someone above can suppress it, then everyone can talk about it, and face and lining are justified, and they can unite to a certain extent, but Arturo Decena ran away.

The military leaders below have no prestige to suppress it.

And taking advantage of the "Chaos in Cancun", those with hatred have already slaughtered each other…

The moment the heavenly soldiers arrived, they scattered and fled!

You still expect the drug dealers to defend to the death?

More than 300 people were scattered and surrounded the area from all directions, not in one big rush, but with tactics. Some people were on the outer perimeter as guards, to avoid being surrounded by other roaming drug dealers.

John MacTavish led what they internally called 'Leicester Five Team,' named after a hero in Mexican mythology.

"Breach!"

A soldier forcefully kicked the door open and they began to search inside in formation.

Just as they were about to go up to the second floor, a foot had just stepped onto the stairs when a burst of gunfire came down, scaring the guy into quickly dodging back…

"Ah!!!!"

The drug dealer upstairs was firing with an AK, shouting loudly.

But with that kind of firing, the bullets were quickly exhausted.

He hurriedly reloaded, and taking advantage of this gap, two soldiers leaned against the railing and fired at him in bursts. The drug dealer was shot in the chest and fell directly from the third floor.

"GOGOGO!"

John MacTavish quickly rushed up, leaned against the corner of the corridor, waited for a while before going out. As he passed a room, he heard movement inside. He stopped and made a hand gesture to his comrades to coordinate.

The other party nodded and reached for the doorknob, preparing to open the door.

Rat-tat-tat… Rat-tat-tat…

A burst of bullets swept in from inside, riddling the door with holes.

John MacTavish took out a grenade, flicked the safety pin with his thumb, and threw it in with a backhand. Boom…

A cloud of dust blew out.

He raised his gun and rushed in. When he saw the scene inside, his eyes twitched slightly.

Three people were lying on the ground…

A naked woman, tied to a chair, was already dead. The cut on her chest made it clear that she had died before the grenade.

And there were two men, bare-chested. One was already dead, and the other was trembling, struggling desperately.

Seeing the situation, it was clear what had happened.

John MacTavish walked over, stepped on the man's face, took out his pistol, and blasted his genitals!

Cock and balls destroyed.

Very typical…

The man didn't even have time to scream. He literally, truly died from the pain, his last breath caught in his throat.

"Continue, clear the building!"

……