Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 372 The Savior Christ looks down upon all living beings!

Ares PMC Defense Company is an important part of Victor's "war system".

After the millennium, in any Gulf War, the US military would use Blackwater as the first stopper.

Mercenaries don’t need pensions anyway!
They will die if they want to, but most of them are from special forces and have very good combat capabilities. Basically, they don't use large-scale weapons, so they have no problem resisting.

But when you meet someone like Victor who has no moral principles and throws incendiary bombs as soon as he comes on the court, you can only admit that you are unlucky.

Ares PMC Defense Company is registered in Africa, and its boss behind the scenes is an African tribal man named Albert.

The actual control is in the hands of Victor's "Hope Group", which is in close contact with the Northern Army... no, now it should be said that the First Republic's General Command and General Staff.

The person currently in charge is a man named Hannibal Lecter, who was one of the 200 "guardians" that Victor appointed to the "Guadalupe Island Police Department". He was later promoted to major, but during a pursuit of drug dealers, he was ambushed and shot in the leg, and he walked with a limp.

Most of those who followed Victor to conquer the world have been well resettled, except for a few who died in battle. However, due to many "problems", most of them have left the power departments through repeated job transfers and went to some cool units to retire.

There are also some who have outstanding abilities, outstanding contributions and are very cautious, and Hannibal Lecter is one of them!
When he was ambushed, he dragged his crippled leg and took two soldiers to kill 17 drug dealers, winning first-class merit. Later, Victor personally talked to him.

Willing to help him find a good job.

The other party also agreed.

So he became the co-founder of Ares PMC Defense.

This kind of mercenary company is different from the army. There is no need for any discipline. The only thing they need to do is to be able to fight. Therefore, the "inspection" here is relatively loose. The only thing they need to do is not to take drugs or sell drugs.

There is no such thing as a pension.

The monthly salary of an ordinary mercenary will not be less than 11000 US dollars, and if it is in a high-intensity war zone, it can reach 2.

This salary is not low, but not high either, it's upper-middle level.

All in all, it’s only $500 a day.

After all, you are working with your life at risk and you don’t know when the end will come.

Do you think being a mercenary is that easy?

died…

Ares PMC Defense Company can only provide you with one month's salary as a follow-up solution. What's wrong with that? Do you still plan to have five insurances and one fund?

At most, the company will buy personal accident insurance for all employees.

The system of Victor's PMC company is different. In addition to those recruited from outside, there are also some "part-time" people internally who are used to train their practical combat capabilities. Some of them are new members of the special forces and students of special schools.

After being trained by Ares PMC Defense Company, these people have seen blood, and only the outstanding ones can be assigned to various top special forces.

Therefore, this is also an important part of Victor’s “elite system”.

These people receive military salary + company salary, and have a regular position, so their treatment is much better than "contract workers".

Since the company was founded in late 1990, it has received three orders.

One was the Rwandan Civil War, helping the government fight the Patriotic Front, worth $600 million.

There was also the Liberian Civil War, helping Charles Taylor fight against the West African United Army and government forces. This order was more expensive, at about 1300 million US dollars.

The time is one year!
The popularity is not too high and the money paid is too little.

There is another order, which is the "comprehensive coordination mechanism" worth 8000 million US dollars signed with the "First Mexican Republic" every year. Whose pocket does this money end up in?
No need to say more.

"Let them try out the skills of the Brazilian drug dealers first." Victor leaned back in his chair, "and see if they are as good as our Mexican drug dealers."

Kennedy also agreed to this approach.

Mercenaries have their own way of playing. The Northern Army is more barbaric. If they rush around recklessly and kill a lot of people, it will be difficult to explain in Brazil.

Let them test the waters first.

"Okay, I'll take care of this matter myself. You'll be mainly responsible for the bombing of the capital of Zacatecas state."

Kennedy nodded. "How about a code name for the operation?"

"Curtis LeMay BBQ Plan No. 1!"

What a lame name!!!

"I promise I won't serve them undercooked."

After the highest general signed the order, the headquarters directly gave orders to Major General Zolf Sherman, the head of the "Air Force", who went directly to the "Durango Air Base" to take overall command!

"General, do you want to move other planes over here?"

Zolf waved his hand. "What are you doing? If we are discovered by the enemy intelligence agencies, they will know our intentions. We will fight on our own, take off from the airport, and bomb freely."

"Remove all the bomber's weapon systems. They are useless. Use the free weight to put more incendiary bombs."

"Also, coordinate the fighter escort mission!"

Zolf Sherman gave several orders in one breath.

"The army has performed well enough. I don't want us to fail here. If anyone can't do a good job for me, get out and raise pigs. Tell the captains of each brigade that I don't want to keep idle people here."

"Yes!" the staff officer responded loudly.

Zolph Sherman took two deep puffs of the cigarette in his mouth and threw the butt on the ground. He could see that it had piled up like a mountain next to Big Foot. With a frown on his face and his hands folded, he looked at the real-time information of various airports on the screen.

This would be great if it was done well.

That is to tell the surrounding United States, Canada, and parts of Central and South America.

Don't mess with me, I already have a mature air coordinated bombing system.

When you pissed me off...

You have no place to cry.

When hunting, when monkeys bare their teeth at you, you have to look at them, then take out your weapon and aim it at them. If the animals are still ignorant, then kill the pheasant nearby.

Kill the chicken to scare the monkey.

The whole air was filled with a tense atmosphere of a war.

...

5 month 24 day.

Brazil.

This lair, known as "Satan's lair on earth", exudes a sense of heat and anxiety.

In Rio de Janeiro under the night sky, Christ the Redeemer on the top of Corcovado Mountain is overlooking the world and all living beings. In front of him, all the joys and sorrows may not be a big deal, but... all living beings are in the world after all.

In the center of Rio de Janeiro, in a red-light district called "Vera Mimosa", the girls on the street are wearing cooler and cooler clothes. They stand at the entrance of the alley and wave to the passing tourists.

Some backpackers couldn't resist the urge and ran up to ask for prices.

Most of the women who can attract customers here have some background, or they are prostitutes for local gangs, or they are high-end goods that some drug dealers have their eyes on.

More than 150 small shops, restaurants and laundries have been set up in the surrounding area, creating 1000 direct jobs and bringing in at least 100 million reais (about US$50) in revenue per month.

In addition, military police and police cars patrol the neighborhood all night to maintain order, making Villa Mimosa the leader among red-light districts for many years. The neighborhood has not found any AIDS cases for 14 consecutive years, so it is known as the "model red-light district."

These have become pillar industries.

They receive a large number of customers every day, and each service lasts only 15 minutes and charges $12.

this price…

It’s better to masturbate.

In a small shop with a "traffic light" hanging on the roadside, there were a dozen women sitting inside, smoking cigarettes and wearing heavy makeup.

The doorbell rang and the lucky cat called out, "Welcome!"

All the women raised their heads and looked outside.

Business is not doing well now.

Then I saw a "cripple" in ordinary clothes walking in. He was leaning on a crutch, had a bald head, and had a fierce look in his eyes. He didn't look like any kind of person.

Many women looked away.

This client... must have some special fetish. Just looking at his face, there are a few words written on it: a loyal defender of SM!
"Boss, what service do you need?"

A man stood up and asked with a smile, "This is the pimp. If you go out to ask for special services in the future, remember, you can't trust what this kind of person says."

Don't be shy though.

Try... bargaining!

Who says price B can’t be bargained?

It’s not easy to make money from anyone.

The man looked at Jitou with dark whites in his eyes, which made Jitou feel very pressured, as if he was a... murderer.

Just when the other party thought he was here to cause trouble and was about to call for help.

The man finally spoke, "Is Sophia here?"

"Ah? Ah, yes!"

The chicken head looked around and saw no one. He frowned and asked the other women, "Where's Sophia?"

"Going to the toilet."

The pimp cursed and smiled apologetically at the man. See, people working in the service industry must have this kind of service awareness.

He shouted a few times towards the toilet.

A woman ran out cursing, "Scream! Scream! Scream your mother, why are you rushing me to poop? Are you in a hurry to eat shit?"

The pimp's expression froze and her face trembled, but she didn't dare to offend him. Recently, a small drug lord in Rio de Janeiro took a fancy to her and was quite rampant. They ran a red-light district and were most afraid of confronting such a desperado.

"Someone clicked on you."

The woman was holding a cigarette in her mouth. She looked like a red cannon fire ghost. She looked the other person up and down. "Cripple? No!"

The chicken head almost swore in anger.

You're a prostitute!
You think you're choosing a queen?

The lame man didn't waste any time. He took out his wallet from his pocket and opened it. All the colorful reais came out.

What is the most attractive thing in this world?

Money!
The women sitting there had stars in their eyes and their eyes were shining.

"Whoever spends the night with me will get this place." The man's voice was a little hoarse.

"Me! Me! Me! Boss, come to me, I have a big dick, I can give it to you."

"Boss, choose me. I've had surgery on my private parts. I look like a little girl. Choose me."

The women stood up, pushed each other, shouted loudly, and almost came to blows.

"Get away, you bunch of sluts, this customer is mine!" Sophia was unable to move when she saw the money. She rudely pushed away the prostitute who was almost clinging to the man, with her teeth and claws bared, like an animal protecting its food.

"Okay, let's go."

Finally the man spoke, interrupting the war that was about to happen, and said to Sophia, "Follow me."

"If you want to perform, sir, you have to pay extra..." the pimp said after hesitating for a moment.

"Add 1000 reais."

"Boss, please walk slowly and be careful with the steps. Sophia, please be more forceful and make the boss feel comfortable today."

As soon as he heard the word money, the chicken-headed man's expression suddenly lit up.

As long as you give money, it’s good for you, it’s good for me, and it’s good for everyone.

Walking out of the "snack bar", Sophia followed behind and she found that the lame man walked quite fast.

He remained silent, which made her feel a little uncomfortable.

"Sir, what's your name?"

The cripple paused, "Hannibal."

This name...

very strange.

The two walked to a "three-star hotel" not far away, which made Sophia feel a little relieved.

Walk in and turn on the light.

She was stunned. There were three burly men sitting inside, looking at him unscrupulously.

"??? Sir, the group, you have to raise the price!" Sophia turned her head and just opened her mouth, but Hannibal pressed her against the wall, squinting his eyes, "Where is Ten Hag?!"

! ! ! !
Sophia's eyes widened.

This name is so familiar, it’s my lover.

A small leader in the "Red Command" founded by Denier, he was mainly responsible for providing drugs to prostitutes and clients in the red light district.

Oh, the other person is only 18 years old...

The reasons why young people join the industry are similar. They have a group of unbridled guides: unemployment, hormones, possessiveness and a sense of loss - there are no parents, no schools, no governments, and no future in their lives. With the advent of globalization, they are surrounded by glittering billboards and commodities. In the slums, there is only one way to get these things: make money by selling drugs.

Ten Hag said to himself two days ago...

He did a job, robbed a money truck, and he was going to be rich!
Are these people government police?

Not like ah!
There are also lame policemen.

Sophia shook her head and began to show off a woman's unique skill - tears in her eyes!
"I don't know, I don't know, I'm just a woman, I don't know." With tears in her eyes, many people with "professional ethics" would forgive her.

After all, a poor woman.

Hannibal, however, remained expressionless and glanced at the others. Two men came over and covered her mouth, pressing her fingers to the ground, while another handed an axe to the boss.

Sophia suddenly stared and cried out.

Hannibal tapped her fingers with the axe, then raised it and chopped it down with all his might!

puff! !

Three fingers flew out and the blood splattered on the wall.

"Woooo!!"

Sophia almost fainted and her body was shaking.

"Do you know where he is now?" Hannibal squatted down and asked softly.

The pain obviously made the woman lose control of her brain, and she began to roll her eyes and twitch.

This made the other party a little impatient. He put the axe on her neck with a sinister expression, "If you don't tell me, I will chop you into pieces and flush you down the toilet."

Hearing this, Sophia was finally scared, and her desire to survive made her cry out.

"Barbecue, Bearded Barbecue!"

Hannibal's expression relaxed when he heard this, and then he smiled.

"Can you...can you please stop laughing?" Sophia said this while enduring the pain, leaving Hannibal silent.

"Get rid of her."

Hannibal spoke in Spanish, which the woman could not understand, but she saw a man pull out a knife and stab her more than a dozen times!

No mercy at all, every blow is deadly.

Sophia fell on the bed covered in blood, staring at them, as if she was about to turn into a ghost...

Hannibal lit himself a cigarette.

"Just find Ten Hag, contact person, we've found the target, great job, this is our Ares PMC Defense Company's first business in South America."

"Boss, don't worry, we can suppress the drug dealers' firepower!"

“Don’t look down on others.”

"The M72 LAW anti-tank rockets that the company transported have arrived at the airport today. Harry, go pick them up. The general said that we can despise the enemy, but we must maintain a high-pressure posture against them on the battlefield!"

"Anti-tank... Boss, isn't this too much of a fuss?"

"What are you afraid of? Fight with confidence. We have someone to back us up. If all else fails, we can push the blame onto other criminal organizations. We can be government forces today and rebels tomorrow. When we go out, we give ourselves our own identities."

It feels so reasonable!
Hannibal is worthy of being known as "Little Victor".

……

(End of this chapter)