Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 317 Drug Dealer Cleanup Plan!!
The Hague, Netherlands!
An office of the International Tribunal.

December 12, 2: am.

The so-called "Victor Hearings" were held here.

NMD, a bureaucratic organization with decades of history, is more active than anyone else in this matter.

It cost a lot of money to bring Ying to the front.

The main reason is that Casare’s quotes are too harsh!

That's our queen, not some bitch's son of a bitch!
Many royalists took to the streets to protest and march, demanding severe punishment for the incident with Mexico!
How dare you! We are an empire.

Although it is just an island now and the military bases outside have been almost withdrawn, we are still on the same island.
The British were gathered outside the office, holding flags and loudly protesting Victor's disrespect for the human rights of drug dealers.

British representative Lawrence got out of the car, accompanied by his secretary, and waved to the crowd.

"Mr. Lawrence! What is today's proposal? Will Britain send troops?" A female reporter pushed forward against the surging waves, almost stuffing the microphone into her face.

"We are very reluctant to see bloody conflicts, which are not in our interests. However, we will not allow a demon to reappear. During World War II, Churchill led us to resist the evil Third Reich. Now, we still have the ability and responsibility to resolve the behavior that tramples on the bottom line of humanity. Please wait and see!"

"Thank you!"

Lawrence was still very polite, holding his suit, nodding to the reporters, and walked into the court surrounded by his secretaries.

This time it is not open to the public...

That is, an internal meeting.

When Lawrence walked in, the security guard at the door closed it.

"Huh? Why did the security guard still lock the door?" The attentive reporter couldn't help but whisper.

"Hey, what's the big deal? It's just locked. Americans even call prostitutes during meetings." The colleague next to me said casually, lowering his head and looking at the footage in the camera.

"Is this so..."

The reporter always felt something was wrong.

There are already about a dozen people sitting in the third courtroom, led by the United Kingdom and flanked by Spain, as well as African countries such as Mali and Algeria, as well as countries that have been devastated by drugs such as Colombia and Guatemala.

When Lawrence came in, everyone stood up.

The British smiled and nodded, very satisfied with their attitude.

Look, although the situation after World War II was dominated by the Soviet Union and the United States, Britain was still the same Britain, able to influence the world.

"Is everyone here?"

"Everyone is here."

Lawrence nodded, "OK, let's start today..."

Before he could finish his words, he suddenly heard the door slam open and a dozen armed men rushed in from outside. One of them even gave two security guards submachine guns.

! ! ! !
Lawrenceton felt something was wrong and quickly crawled under the table.

Those gunmen just kept firing with their guns!
Thunderbolt, thunderbolt…thump, thump, thump!

The bullets shattered the documents on the table into pieces, and the representatives who were unable to dodge were shot into pieces, and blood mist filled the entire room.

An armed man wearing a skull mask kicked the table and dragged Lawrence out by his hair.

"Don't...I...I."

Have you ever seen an Uzi submachine gun pointed at someone's head at close range?
Haven't you seen it?
See it now.

The militant put the gun to Lawrence's head and pulled the trigger, firing a burst of bullets. Tsk tsk tsk tsk...

The face was smashed!

"Did you take the picture?" the militant asked with a hoarse voice, turning his head.

A companion gestured OK with a camera.

"Send it to the Mexicans, and transfer 600 million U.S. dollars to accounts in Southeast Asia."

The "reward" issued by the Governor's Office of Northern Mexico is 600 million, so naturally someone will accept it. It's just the International Court of Justice in The Hague. If you pay, the peacekeeping forces will do the work for you.

The South African EO company once had conflicts with peacekeeping forces in the war zone. In this world, there are many people who will do anything for money.

In Africa, 20 dollars is not enough to kill the whole family, right?
The reporters outside had not yet dispersed. The reporter who had felt something was wrong with the door being locked suddenly moved his ears. "Did you hear any noise?"

"Sound? What sound? Hoss, why are you so suspicious? This is the International Court of Justice in The Hague. Can you kill someone? Hahaha..."

Before the companion's laughter had completely died down, a violent crash was suddenly heard, and then an armored off-road vehicle crashed out from inside? ? ?
There was a motorcycle following behind him.

The group fired into the air, and the sound of the gunfire immediately frightened the surrounding protesters and reporters, who screamed and fled...

The reporter named Hoss ran very fast, like a sprinter, and got to the side of the trash can next to him. He lay on the ground, picked up the camera, looked through the gap, and pressed the shutter!
Click!

The news is on the front page!

《Breaking! The International Court of Justice in The Hague was attacked! 》

This headline instantly appeared in the top newspapers of many countries.

Spain, United Kingdom, Germany…

The intern Hoss became famous overnight. In his photos, the gang of "thugs" wore skull masks and held Uzi submachine guns. They looked extremely tough!
What’s even more unusual is that this type of mask has suddenly become popular among many groups.

Ok…

It's not very serious.

When Casare heard about this, he was "shocked" and wrote a letter of condolence and sent it to London overnight.

His vulgar words and dissolute behavior make him worthy of being Victor's loyal lackey.

But Mexico is not currently "affected" by this incident, they have bigger things to do.

Cleanup Plan 1.0!

The Northern State has entered killing mode!
Baja California Sur.
Kensell Mine.

There were originally about 4000 drug dealers here. Due to the extremely harsh environment, at least half of them died of hunger and disease.

Today the other half...

were gathered together.

There was a foul smell in the air.

"Don't you have any hygiene at all? It stinks!" Santos wore gloves, covered his nose, frowned, and his tone was full of disgust.

Look at his rank... Lieutenant!
This guy showed amazing courage and ability in the "Mexicali Standoff". With a strong backer behind him, it would be strange if he didn't get promoted.

It won't even be long before you become a captain.

Now Santos's position is not with the 223rd Regiment of the National Guard, but with a newly established department, the "Drug Dealer Removal Department."

The minister is an upstart named Heinrich Luitpold!
Hearing Santos' words, the mine manager next to him shuddered, his pupils condensed, and whispered, "Do you want to clean it all up?"

Santos looked at the drug dealers with disgust and nausea in his eyes!
"Just wash it if it's dirty." He said softly, glancing at his childhood friend Camposter next to him. When one person succeeds, the whole family benefits. This guy was also transferred to the cleaning department.

The latter met Santos' eyes, nodded vigorously, trotted to a water cannon truck, patted the door, waved his hand, and signaled to fire!
There's a skull painted on the back of the water cannon truck!

The Northern Army soldier sitting inside responded, turned on the equipment, pointed the huge cannon at the crowd, and pressed the button!
call out!
A stream of water sprayed over.

It's just... why does this look wrong?

The water column rushed to the dozen drug dealers in front. They were blown away by the huge shock wave and lay on the ground screaming and howling!
The skin was burning, and the entire face and body began to fester.

"Sulfuric acid! This is sulfuric acid!!" The experienced drug dealers shouted in horror. They had also done this before and soaked their opponents in sulfuric acid water and watched them howl.

But when the target suddenly became myself, I was at a loss for a moment.

The drug dealers ran around in panic.

But the Northern Army had already set up machine guns.

"Ahhh! You devils, devils!!"

"I don't want to die... I've been reforming seriously. I'm a model miner. Please, let me go, let me go!"

But the Northern Army turned a deaf ear and felt sour instead!
"Run! These devils are going to kill us all! Run!" After someone shouted, thousands of people fled in all directions.

"shot!"

Bullets were fired and heavy machine guns roared.

The drug dealers who had no power to resist were beaten to death, and blood flowed like a river on the ground. The blood and sulfuric acid mixed together had a strange... smell.

Santos took a deep breath, his face showing ecstasy, "Sure enough, without drug dealers, the world tastes sweet."

The mine manager swallowed, sweat beading on his forehead.

He claims that he is not a good person, but Santos is more cruel than him, no wonder he is called "the son of the devil!"

This is the name many people give him, a kind of teasing, but it is gradually becoming a label.

"Where's the next place?"

Campost looked at his notebook, "There are 1.5 people in the drug dealer concentration camp in Ensenada!"

Santos pulled his gloves off, "What do you think is the best way to do it next?"

The dog-headed military strategist Campost's eyes flashed, "We can pour gasoline on them all, and then..."

"We can't let them die so easily!"

"Besides, if you could kill so many people with one fire, Santos, you would definitely be a top figure in the Northern Army!"

Ok…

There will also be one of your names on the wanted list.

But Santos apparently doesn't mind.

The general's orders must be carried out even at the cost of my life!

"Just as you said." Santos narrowed his eyes, "I can't wait to be praised."

Santos is just a microcosm...

On the first day of the cleanup plan, a total of 13 drug dealers were killed, 5 were killed on the second day, and an additional 18 were killed on the third day!
How miserable!

That scene...

Even within the Northern Army, some people were whispering.

Not to mention the public, but under the propaganda of Goebbels' "propaganda department", the cleanup plan was glorified as the "light of humanity."

If these drug dealers are not killed, there will never be a dawn of hope in Mexico's war on drugs. Killing them will serve as a warning to others: Do you still dare to sell drugs?

The effect is obvious.

It turns out that the drug circulation rate in the North is close to O!

On December 12, the Mexican Governor's Office issued a "One-week summary report on the cleanup plan."

"The Northern Army has eliminated 312341 drug dealers, and plans to eliminate 213412 in the remaining week. We will completely eliminate drug-related personnel in the Northern States, and we will not tolerate any leniency!"

After hearing what Casare said, many reporters' hands trembled.

31 people were killed in one week!

This…

The reporters could only express their "dissatisfaction" with the crackling sound of shutter clicks.

"The cleanup plan will continue to evolve. We will carry out activities against overseas drug dealers, not limited to assassinations. Don't worry, our intelligence department likes to kill whole families. We will drown their children in the swimming pool, throw their parents into the stove, and tie bombs to their mistresses." Casare raised his head, looked at the camera, and smirked, "Don't worry, the world is so big, we will find you!"

He said this wildly pointing at the camera.

This defiant look made the Golden Triangle tycoons, the Golden Triangle drug dens, the African leaf merchants and many people working in this industry all feel as if their hearts were being tightly grasped by someone, and their faces turned grim!

“These people are crazy!”

You are a warlord in Mexico, can't you join in the drug trafficking? It would be great if we could all be happy together. You are noble, you are innocent, bah!
"Are there any questions now?" After Casare finished speaking, he looked at the reporters below and suddenly asked.

This confused the reporters, but they were soon filled with ecstasy!

In the past, Casare would just leave after talking, but now he still has time for people to ask questions, which is really unexpected!

The next second, everyone raised their hands and stretched them straight, just like they were competing to be the best when answering questions from the teacher in school.

Casare ordered a woman who looked very attractive.

"Hello, sir. I am Madonna, a reporter from Le Figaro. I would like to ask you that Mexico's cleanup plan has seriously affected the world situation. The United Nations Human Rights Council has classified this behavior as the highest level of red incident, and more than 10 European countries have announced the suspension of diplomatic relations with Mexico and imposed sanctions. What do you think? Thank you."

"Mexico does not need diplomatic partners who sympathize with drug traffickers. What we need are warriors who will not give up in the face of drugs, not cowards who will just surrender. If the Human Rights Council feels uncomfortable with our behavior, then so be it. Each person, regardless of whether they are adults or children, men or women, old or young, will receive $2000. There are about 40 captives, a total of $ million. If you want them, go and take them!"

Casare smiled and said, "They won't be reluctant to spend the money, please tell them about this, we are willing to stop planning for a day for this."

Don’t you like it?

For you, for you.

It's all garbage anyway.

This is an obvious conspiracy. Don't you in Europe and the United States claim yourselves to be symbols of human rights? Okay, then you buy them off. If you don't, then you are fake and you are deceiving yourself.

Once you buy it, you will have a headache.

"Next." Casare pointed at a man wearing glasses.

"Britain and Spain propose sending a joint force to Mexico to maintain stability..."

Before he finished speaking, Casare waved his hand impatiently, "Let them come! My bullets and my shotgun welcome them. I don't like boasters. I hope they can come out and fight like men."

"Next one."

Here Casare is arguing with a group of "dogs", and in the office of the Governor's Palace.

Victor sat alone, unable to contain his smile.

He looked at the points on the Gold Finger panel.

"52 billion!!"

……

(End of this chapter)