Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 9 We are relatives, how could I cheat you? (come and comment)

Victor took out a bottle of wine.

I didn’t know where to find two goblets and took them to the toilet to rinse them. After leaving them there for a long time, there were still cobwebs on them.

Pour the wine, hand it to Casare, and draw the cake with a smile, "Don't worry, I know this business well. Wherever there is violence, there will be customers. Mexican drug dealers can't fight each other with sticks and stones." Bar?"

After he finished speaking, he laughed first, "Either we don't make money, or we make a lot of money. When the time comes, we will buy a big villa next to the president. Who dares to look down on us? Stop playing at roadside stalls, and then , use all the money you earn to treat AIDS."

Victor said as he clinked a glass and drank it in one gulp.

The taste of bad red wine…

AIDS was discovered in 1981. Yankees want to be at the forefront of everything, and they have so much fun being gay.

Casare was thin-skinned and turned red when he was told this. He took a sip of red wine and asked, as if thinking of something, "I heard that you offended a drug lord today. Will he take revenge on you?"

"revenge?"

Victor sat down on the chair, crossed his legs like this, took out the cigarette, put it under the tip of his nose, smelled it, put it in the palm of his hand and paused a few times, "He is like a dead dog in prison. I am a policeman, can I still Afraid of him? Even if they come here to do harm, there are people out there who want to kill me to give him face, are they as fucking powerful as I am?"

"With an AK47, shoot them to death."

"It's just the two of us...I'm afraid..."

"What are you afraid of?" Victor held a cigarette between his fingers. "How can you do business without running into trouble?"

"Drug lord?"

Victor spat, "We are the police. Isn't it part of our duties to catch drug lords?"

Victor glanced at him, "Those who engage in gray business will either go ashore and make a fortune, or go to the sea and live in jail. The same goes for us. Do you think there will be a way out? Do you believe it or not? You can find your cousin. Once the weapons are sold, all the gangs in Mexico City will know that there is a fat man smuggling arms, and then... they will be eaten away to nothing."

"Casare, I have very low standards in my life. I want to sleep with women I have never slept with before. I want others to stand up from the sofa and talk when they see me. I want everyone to shut up when I am unhappy. I I don’t want to find a random woman and give birth to a child. I have to work hard for half my life but end up in poverty. One day, I get seriously ill. In order to raise medical expenses, my children work as coolies and women as prostitutes. Then I lie on the hospital bed and say something. , Ordinary life is a blessing, fuck it, I want to get rich, if Jesus comes and blocks my way of making money, I will have to change Easter to Friday!"

As he spoke, he poured himself red wine and raised his glass, "If you want to play, play big, right? Are you afraid of risks when making money? The greater the risk, the more money!"

Casare has been a policeman for four or five years. He usually receives a small amount of money from drug lords, but he is no longer satisfied. The white spots on his underwear can be washed off and used as salt. He looked at Victor's eyes. , gritted his teeth, grabbed the red wine, and with one-third left, he raised his head and drank it.

"Victor, I will listen to you no matter what you say."

Casare's brain is very useful, "But we are the police. There are some things that are not convenient for us to come forward. We have to find someone to help."

Victor nodded. He felt that what the other party said made sense, and suddenly a name came to his mind, "Do you remember Nouriel Best?"

Casare was shocked when he heard the name, "Didn't his whole family get killed by drug dealers?"

"He is still alive and living in Kimahuakan and I have his contact information."

This original person was kind-hearted and open-minded and had many "friends". One of them was Nouriel Best. Like Casare, he was also a policeman, and the three of them had worked together before.

However, he was a ruthless and lustful person. He fell in love with a drug dealer's mistress and was caught by someone. Then the whole family was in trouble.

The two brothers were directly stuffed into buckets and filled with cement.

The police did not dare to become policemen, fearing that the drug lord would know that he was not dead and would harm him, so they usually stayed in hiding. The reason why they were in contact with Victor was because the latter had seen him in Kimahuacán.

"You want to pull him into the car?"

Victor nodded, "Pull him into the car. At least we have a certain understanding of him. He is a "dead man" now. Many things are easier for us to do. In the arms business, should we be allowed to wear police uniforms?"

"But what has he been doing lately?"

Casare frowned, "It seems that he acts as a middleman, sells some information, and helps pull strings. But you know that he is lazy and has a tight life. He is nothing but courageous."

It's great to be brave. As long as you are brave, the Queen of England will take maternity leave!
"Tomorrow you ask for leave, and in the morning you bring weapons to do business with your cousin. You tell him that as long as the money is in place and the goods are plentiful, we don't accept drugs, but only US dollars, not even rubles, and I will come out then. I’ll meet you outside at the market.”

After hearing this, Kasare thought for a moment and nodded.

"Also, remember, if your cousin asks you where your goods come from tomorrow, you can tell them some information appropriately. Just say that I have an uncle in the Soviet Union who serves as an officer in the army. We have a deep relationship. Even if he wants There are also RPGs, but it just takes some time.”

Casare looked at him in surprise. He didn't remember that Victor had relatives in the Soviet Union? But he was still sensible enough not to ask.

"Downplay my presence and don't tell him my name."

Unlike the Mexican drug lords who can't wait to hang out in front of their younger brothers every day, Victor likes to keep a low profile. If there is nothing important, he doesn't even plan to come forward. Casare is his glove.

There is nothing you can do about the drug business. If your boss delegates power, a younger brother who has stayed for a long time and is familiar with the production process and has sales channels will have his own ideas. Who can't grow this kind of raw material? Mexico's cash crops have been replaced by growing raw materials.

But arms are different. You have no goods at all. Do you dare to start work just by pulling in a few machine tools? As long as Victor holds the supply of goods, Casare can't go anywhere even if he wants to.

Victor wants to pursue an official career.

He thinks long term, and Casare doesn't care. Anyway, as long as he makes money, Victor will do whatever he says.

After staying in his room until about 10 o'clock in the evening, Casare opened the door and walked out with a bag containing AK47 parts.

"Jesus bless."

Victor lit the cigarette, crossed his legs, took a puff, and blew out a smoke ring, "Amen."

...

Mexico is a great country for traveling.

You'll be "high" when you wake up early in the morning.

If the military burns down the farming industry, you can ascend to heaven. Of course, this is just a rhetorical exaggeration. What idiot would use fire to burn it?
Wouldn’t it mean that the whole country would have to become addicts?

Casare walked out of the prison with a leave note, a dark gray bag, and a baseball cap. It was true as Victor said, in this prison, no one cares about you when you go out, and no one checks you at all.

Millennium ago, when Guzman was captured, do you know how he escaped?
It cost more than two million U.S. dollars to have the cleaner stuff it in his sanitary truck and take it out.

After Casare walked out of the prison door, he saw a lot of men standing in a group on the left and right of the door, pointing at him with unkind eyes. Some people even took out portraits to compare, obviously they were here to seek revenge. of.

Kasare's eyelids were trembling.

These people just have the word "drug lord" written on their foreheads. If they draw their guns and shoot indiscriminately, there will be no place to hide in this place.

Casare took a deep breath and walked around them with a calm expression. At the bus stop, he saw a bright red car waiting. After looking at the bus number, he opened the back seat door and got in.

There were already four people sitting inside, a driver, a co-pilot, a man with shaggy hair and a slovenly beard. There were also two strong men sitting in the back seat. They were tall and thick, and they didn't look like they were easy to mess with.

"Cousin Casare, long time no see." The man in the co-pilot took off his sunglasses, turned his head and greeted with a smile.

Casare was holding his backpack. The car smelled like a man, with body odor and foot odor. When he saw him, he pointed and said, "Dragan, why do you have a gold tooth?"

"Does it look good? 3000 pesos." The other party said with a hint of showoff.

Damn it!
It's so expensive, this money can buy several lives in Mexico.

Casare cursed the prodigal in his heart, but still smiled and gave a thumbs up and praised him for his discernment. Doesn't he know the virtues of his cousin?
Good face, there are only two things to do when you come out, wallet and face. If you don't praise him, you still call him a waste, cousin? Believe it or not he fucked you.

"What good thing did you tell me on the phone? I was going to collect protection money with my little brother. I drove dozens of kilometers here. Don't tell me you were just playing tricks on me." Dragan raised his head slightly and said.

Casare opened his backpack, took out the parts of the AK47, and assembled it under the eyes of Dragan and others. Victor taught him all night last night.

"Is this a good thing?" He patted the gun body and handed it over with a smile.

"Faq! AK47!"

Dragan said a classic curse, took the rifle, pulled the bolt a few times, and said in a clear and clear voice, "Where did you come from?"

"We have people in the Soviet Union. It's not just a matter of making weapons. I think of you whenever I have something good. Do you want it?"

Dragan looked at Casare again, "It seems that you have joined an organization with a good future."

"Do you want to join? The Mexican government? The police force is hiring right now," Casare said. "Is there an organization bigger than this?"

Dragan choked at these words.

Shouldn't he be a good gang member and become a police officer?

Show off your head?

"I will give you a cheap price for this gun. Just pay me some shipping and handling fees. I hope you will take care of my business in the future. How about $800? We are cousins ​​and I won't lie to you." "

……

(End of this chapter)