Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 359 My heart is warm and my body is warm too.

Afghanistan. Panjshir Valley.

Members of a joint US-Israeli investigation team are conducting an in-depth investigation at the site of the plane crash.

A group of militia members stood nearby with weapons in their hands, staring at these people operating high-tech weapons.

Masood was holding a cigarette and an AK47.
As the commander of the Panjshir resistance forces, he actually has unclear ties with the United States and Europe.

The biggest mistake the Soviet Union made was getting involved in the Afghan War. But if it had not been involved, Amin would have flirted with the United States, rejected the "invitation" several times, and even asked the Soviet Union to withdraw its ambassador. Oh no, can this be tolerated by you?
I'll give you a set of "Storm 333 Operation!"

I have to say, the Soviets were really cruel.

But at the same time, the Soviet Union, which was involved in the war, was spending a lot of money every day, was dragged down by the quagmire, and its morale was low under the attacks of the guerrillas in the mountainous areas.

At this time, the United States was of course willing to spend a lot of money to support anti-Soviet armed forces like Masood, giving money and people, and even giving... India the latest YS planting technology!
Most of the drugs produced went into the pockets of the CIA.

It’s surprising, right? Afghanistan is actually a famous “producing country”. In fact, it is quite normal. Historically, this place has been invaded repeatedly, and it is difficult to establish a stable, long-term and strong government. Most areas are under the rule of tribes and warlords, and decisions in various places are made by military leaders.

Typical separatist regime!
In the 19th century, Rahman Khan, the ruler of Afghanistan, saw that British India was making money by selling YP, and he became jealous, so he introduced it into the country and planted it on a large scale.

And because of its high quality, it actually had a huge impact on Britain's overseas sales. After 1979, its output had accounted for 5% of the world's total.

In the following ten years of war, because of the need for money, the military leaders became unscrupulous, and even a figure like Massoud could not avoid it.

In 1989, YS production accounted for 45% of the world's total!

To a certain extent, it has completely surpassed the Golden Triangle and the Silver Triangle and become the overlord.

This place is a drug den.

Victor will kill him sooner or later!
Masood saw two men climbing out of the pit, talking to each other. They spoke fluent English, which he could just about understand.

It seems to be talking about Soviet missiles.

Hits to the abdomen, black box, and more.

"Mr. Masood."

One of the white men waved at him. The Afghan man with a cigarette in his mouth was startled, threw the cigarette on the ground, and ran over. "Mr. Ebende, what's the matter?"

This guy is the US plenipotentiary in Afghanistan and also an arms dealer.

Many of the items in the "Panjshir Resistance Force" are American products.

"How's the investigation I asked you to help with?"

Masood frowned, "My brother is in charge of this matter. I'll call him over."

The American, Ebende, nodded.

Masood asked someone to call Zia, who was in charge of intelligence, and asked him to talk to them.

"According to our intelligence, at that time, someone saw a missile launching in a valley in the Northern Alliance, but we don't know whether it was true or not, and which force it belonged to."

The Northern Alliance is very powerful, and of course it has the support of the Americans and NATO behind it. However, after 89, it began to become a little disobedient and was about to attack Kabul.

The Panjshir Resistance Force and the Northern Alliance are enemies. They have been fighting each other for hundreds of years due to their different races. It's a very chaotic situation.

Ebende glanced at the silent man next to him, who looked mean and squinted his eyes. "I hope you can help us. Afghanistan is American territory after all."

"Of course, no problem. We are allies and best partners."

When Masood heard this, he felt a little dissatisfied. What do you mean by American territory? This place belongs to the Afghans.

But he also knew that now was not the time to talk about this.

But it is inevitable to feel uncomfortable.

Aibende and the other man chatted as if they were alone, and deep down they did not consider Masood and others beside them as equals.

"Okay, go and get busy." The other party said casually with a wave of his hand.

Masood looked embarrassed and blushed. He responded and walked to the side. His brother Zia grumbled in dissatisfaction, "The Americans are getting more and more excessive."

"Yesterday, a group of consultants broke into a wedding house in the valley. They even demanded to see the bride and clashed with the groom's family, injuring two people. They were simply bandits. If our people hadn't stopped them, they would have raped the bride!"

Zia was angry but kept her voice down.

Masood frowned, took out a homemade cigarette from his pocket and put it in his mouth. He hoped that the United States would help him, but he did not want the Americans to become the new "hegemons" here after driving away the Soviet Union.

Afghans want real independence!
"You just keep a close eye on them. If those consultants dare to mess around again, just tell me that this is Central Asia, not North America. In North America, they were beaten like dogs by Mr. Victor and couldn't act so rampantly," said Masood.

He addressed Victor as sir.

Because he is a staunch believer in "Victorism," a term that has recently become popular around the world.

The most important core is: any struggle is full of cruelty. Don't leave your future to others. You should hold the sword in your hand and let peace continue from violence.

This kind of "Victorism" is quite extreme and has a relatively small market in Latin America, but it is quite popular in hot spots such as the Middle East and Central Asia.

Africa?

What kind of ideology is needed in Africa? Three people with guns will go and do something. The winner will get a young model, and the loser will have a feast with the whole family. The matching mechanism is different. No matter what ideology you have, it is useless here.

But then again, Victor has blazed a new trail.

If he could lead Mexico to rise, he would have a significant place in the world history books a hundred years later.

嗏

How difficult!

After Masood finished instructing his brother, he looked at the American who was chatting animatedly, pondered for a moment, turned his head and looked at Zia, "I have something for you, come here."

My brother looked confused, but still leaned his head over.

Masood leaned over and whispered a few words in his ear.

The other party's expression suddenly became interesting, staring, "This... this..."

"What is this? Go by yourself and remember not to let anyone else know."

Zia swallowed, glanced around, and nodded cautiously.

The eldest brother actually asked him to contact Victor and meet him first so that he could help him if there was any problem in the future.

Isn't this just rubbing Washington's face into the ground?
This matter must not be told to anyone, otherwise, Masood and even the entire Panjshir resistance force would be abandoned.

Is this a way out?

...

Ethan Hunt returned to his residence with a gloomy face.

The babysitter called out to him.

He responded softly.

"Sir, dinner..."

"You guys eat. I have work to do. Don't come to me unless you have something to do." He walked upstairs and said without looking back.

The two nannies looked at each other, their eyes revealing worry.

It seems like something’s wrong with the boss. Is I going to be fired?

In today's market, it's really hard to find someone who doesn't deduct wages and doesn't have any special habits.

God bless Mr. Victor.

Ethan Hunt walked into the study, took off his suit and hung it on the hanger. He looked out the window and saw a red car parked not far from the door.

A hand stretched out, with a cigarette in it, flashing in the darkness.

"Damn it!" Ethan Hunt cursed.

This car has been following him for many days. He thought it was the "Northern Army coming to assassinate him", but the other party did not take any further action and just stared at him. In addition, due to Prime Minister Abrego's recent attitude towards him, he was not even allowed to attend many meetings.

He realized that the other party was suspicious of him.

The bait he threw out last time didn’t catch the fish, mainly because it was too fake.

Ethan Hunt didn't know whether the other party had monitored his communication tools, so he didn't dare to contact them and could only rely on some other means to convey the message.

If that day really comes...

Then we can only take the last step.

"Hey!"

He sighed, smoked a cigarette, and started to deal with some documents that might be leaked in the study.

And at this time in the red car below.

Two men are kissing? ! ! !
The guy with dragon and tiger tattoos on his arms is doing this. Damn, aren't there any women among the drug dealers?

Is it necessary to do this?

Gala Gala~
Just then, there was a noise at the intersection. The two people were startled and quickly separated. They saw a man pushing a trash can coming towards them.

There aren't many people on this road, so the sound is naturally conspicuous.

"Hi!" the man in the co-pilot seat shouted, took two deep puffs of the cigarette in his hand, then motioned for him to throw the cigarette butt in and open the lid.

The man raised his head, looked at them, then glanced at the back seat. Seeing no one else, he nodded, opened the lid, covering his upper body, and with his other hand took out a Type 67 pistol from his arms.

This gun has low muzzle noise and features low smoke and low light. The gun has a compact structure, small size, is easy to carry, has good shooting accuracy, and is easy to operate. It is indeed a must-have for killing people.

Agents from many countries like it.

Mexico's Special Mission Intelligence Agency also likes to use this weapon. This agency is an "office" under the Bureau of the Interior, which carries out overseas missions. It has a small number of people, but they are all elite.

Take out your gun and shoot decisively!
Puff puff…

The agent's approach is different from the "rough guys" on the front line who hold guns and shoot. Two bullets, one for each person. You're welcome. It's love from Victor.

The people inside were killed before they could even react.

The man looked around, raised his head to look at Ethan's cottage, pushed the trash can aside, got in the car, pushed the body aside, and drove away.

Less than a minute after I walked there, an identical red car drove over. Even the license plate was the same.

There were also two men sitting inside.

After the car stopped, the man in the passenger seat was wearing a gray suit and had stylish hair. He was a bit older, probably 35+, but he looked very elegant. He walked slowly to the door and rang the doorbell.

After a while the nanny ran out.

"Excuse me, is Mr. Victor here?"

"you are?"

"I am his friend, please convey my message to him."

The nanny looked at the handsome middle-aged man in front of her, her face turned red, she nodded, and ran back. When she reached the door, she turned her head and looked back. The other person smiled at her.

Beauty does not distinguish between men and women.

In the study, Ethan was destroying documents when there was a sudden knock on the door. He raised his head abruptly, his breathing disordered, "Who?"

"Sir, there's a man at the door looking for you, saying he's your friend."

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the nanny's voice, but then frowned. Friend?
He walked to the window, opened the curtains and looked down. Sure enough, he saw a man standing there. "Wearing a suit so late at night, are you pretending to be someone else?"
Suddenly, the other person raised his head and smiled at him.

Ethan raised his head and said, "I understand. I'll go down right away."

He turned off the shredder and looked at the ornaments before going downstairs.

When he reached the door, he looked the other person up and down and said, "I don't know you, sir."

"I'm from the North."

Ethan Hunt frowned, "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Drug dealers are all CTMD bastards." The man suddenly said this.

Ethan's eyes lit up when he heard this.

"Victory to Victor!"

This is actually a password...

The drug dealer shouldn’t scold himself. Anyone who can’t think of this must be a god.

"I'm Harry Hart, the director of Special Mission Intelligence. I've been ordered to come and take you home, Major General Ethan. The general has not forgotten you."

Ethan was stunned for a moment, but then tears welled up in his eyes.

It was not in vain that I served that fat pig Blanco, nor was it in vain that I showed off my beauty!
Sure enough, he knew that the tears he cried in bed every night were not shed in vain.

Major General!

This is considered a high-level position in the military.

"I've got my retreat route planned. Let's go," said Harry Hart.

Ethan Hunt nodded hurriedly. Why should he wait here to die if he could run away? It was just a pity that he had been lurking for so long.

"Wait..." he suddenly said, his eyes fierce, "Give those drug dealers a gift before you leave. How many bombs have you prepared?"

Harry Hart was puzzled. Ethan leaned over and whispered something in his ear.

The former's eyes suddenly lit up and he gave a thumbs up in praise.

Only he could come up with such a stupid method.

"I'll get ready right now!"

Ethan Hunt nodded and watched the other party leave before returning to the house. He looked at the two nannies, smiled, and thought for a moment, "You should go back and rest for two months."

"Ah? Sir, we did something wrong, please don't copy us."

"Yes, sir, we will definitely change it."

The two nannies said excitedly.

Ethan smiled and shook his head. "It's okay. I'm just going on a business trip for a while. I'm going to give up this house. I'll come back and find another place. Don't worry, I'll come back and find you." He took out US dollars and handed them over. "I'll also pay you the next two months' salary. I won't let you go without work."

"Okay, go to bed."

The two nannies looked at each other and breathed a sigh of relief. As long as they were not fired, it was fine. Although they felt strange, they obediently went back to their rooms.

The moon outside is getting bigger and bigger. It's late at night. I wish you a good night.

...

Early the next morning.

South Building.

That is the administrative office.

These drug dealers started to clean up their act after the founding of the People's Republic of China. It's impossible that they all discuss national affairs in nightclubs, right?
They bought a building in a very orderly manner, set up their office in it, hired security guards, and set up an entry and exit system.

It also stipulates that work starts at 9 a.m., there is a two-hour lunch break, and get off work ends at 6 p.m., and the canteen provides meals in the evening.

TMD!

Much better than some dog capitalists.

When Prime Minister Abrego arrived at work early in the morning and opened his office, he saw the latest newspaper and a small gift box on the table with the words: Happy birthday, dear.

He was startled.

Honey?
Who sent it?

Today is indeed my birthday.

He did have quite a few mistresses in Yucatan, but who would be so thoughtful as to give him gifts?
Many names flashed through my mind.

Jessica, Perrine, Odo, Kabrina, Aisha...

Many of them are small stars. If you want to be famous, you must find a sponsor. Since he is so powerful, naturally many people will rely on him.

But being cautious by nature, he still called the security guard and asked him who delivered the package.

"A woman, very pretty, with long hair."

Abrego immediately brought someone into his mind, and when he heard the word "woman", he subconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. The greatest power of human beings is their divergent thinking and preconceived ideas. He immediately thought that it was really sent by his mistress.

It seems that my money was not spent in vain, and I feel warm in my heart.

At least they still think about themselves.

As he thought about it, he opened the package and couldn't help but want to see what was inside.

Once opened...

boom! ! !
With a loud bang, the windows nearby were shattered. A gust of air rushed out of the window, and debris fell all over the ground. Many people working below suddenly looked up.

I woke up immediately after dozing off.

Then my scalp felt numb. Something happened!
All right…

Now not only my heart feels warm, but my body is also warm.

(End of this chapter)