Chapter 158 The locals are very rude!

Chapter 158 The locals are very rude!

Wait until the press conference is over.

After Victor took a group photo with Cuaukmote and some Drug Enforcement Administration officials, and was about to leave, the female reporter from the Los Angeles Times came over.

"Mr. Victor."

She shouted, waiting for the other person to turn around, "Can I give you an in-depth interview?"

Victor looked at his watch and said with a smile, "Sorry, miss, I have to go back to Baja California in the afternoon. I'm afraid..."

The female reporter was not discouraged. She took out a business card and handed it over, shaking her blond bangs from her forehead. "Then can you give me your business card?"

Victor glanced at the other person. He was wearing a pair of jeans. He was about 175cm tall and had a great figure. Of course, he was not such a vulgar person. He saw a girl working hard in the journalism industry and glanced at Casare next to him. Blinded.

Lacritus said: "The most reliable thing is to look at the eyes..."

Casare handed over a business card.

"Thank you! God bless you, Mr. Victor."

"God bless you too."

The female reporter walked away with long legs. Victor glanced at it, took the business card from Casare's hand, looked at it, and raised his eyebrows.

"Belsaria Rumsfeld!"

This last name…

It’s not very common in the United States, but it’s very famous.

"Boss, do you want to check her identity?" Casare suddenly said from the side. Victor turned his head and saw the sly smile on his face, and smiled, "What is an ordinary reporter doing to check her?"

This guy definitely regards himself as coveting the other person's body.

"Mr. Victor, Mr. Cuauquemot is waiting for you in the office." Secretary Nunez came over and said softly, hesitating for a moment, "Mr. seems a little unhappy."

Victor glanced at him and saw that the other person's eyes were sincere.

Um…

A very smart guy who knows where to lean at this time.

Victor smiled and nodded, walked towards Kwaukmot's office, knocked on the door, and as soon as he entered, he saw him leaning against the bookcase, looking out through the window.

"Nunez, please go out." Cuauquemot said, and the secretary obediently closed the door and left.

"Victor! Honatan Aragon and six consortium talkers died at home!" Quaukmot turned his head, frowned, and stared at him, "Did you know?"

Victor looked at him and spread his hands, "You know, today is the first day of the establishment of the Drug Enforcement Administration, and it is also the anti-drug day. We found that Mr. Honatan Aragon and others were gathering people to take drugs, and they had a large amount of drugs, but why did he die? , I think they are preparing to resist."

Well, if your eyebrows move, you are definitely going to draw your gun, and you are definitely going to shoot, so I can only kill you first.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm in charge of the DEA, Kwaukemot."

"But that's Honatan Aragon and several consortium talkers!"

"Then what?"

Victor smiled, "In the cause of anti-drugs, I never care about the identity of the other party. I have spared Honatan Aragon once, but he doesn't cherish it. There is nothing I can do. I can only send him to see God."

Kwaukmot is very smart. He knows that Honatan and the others may have cooperated with drug dealers, but the fundamental reason why Victor killed them is that he disliked them being in the way!

This is what Latin American military leaders do.

They never talk about reason, they only talk about rhetoric and are more pragmatic.

"Honatan has been my friend for 30 years." Kwaukmot said after a moment of silence.

"Then just change to another one, sir. You can still live for 60 years and find two more friends." Victor said with a smile. Seeing that the other party's expression was still solemn, his smile faded slightly, "I won't follow any plans. Those who are obstructing the anti-drug cause, who are on the opposite side of me, should be thinking about learning how to sleep with their eyes open and how to ventilate in the toilet.”

Kwaukmot once again sensed Victor's toughness!

He was quiet for a moment and nodded slowly, "I support your decision. I will not interfere with drug control matters, but I hope that if there are people with sensitive identities, you can tell me."

Victor nodded, "Of course, no problem. I will maintain respect for you, Quaukmot."

This made the other person's face look a little better, and he took out an unopened book from the table and handed it to him, "You will go back to Baja California in the afternoon. This is my gift to you."

Victor took it and looked at it, and was startled, "Mein Kampf"? !

But he still smiled and said thank you.

After another two minutes of dry chatting, Victor walked out of the office and handed the book to Casare.

"Throw it away for me."

"??" Casare was startled, "Boss, this book is still new."

“What’s so good about a loser’s book!”

"After the anti-drug campaign is successful, "Victor's Quotations" will be the best-selling book."

Casare was stunned.

…

Alejandro was promoted to the governor of Baja California, and the first document he signed was to change the capital to the more developed Tijuana.

The cities of Mexicali, Ensenada and Guadalupe Island will be formed into a new "economic zone", with Casare Gonzalez as mayor.

Victor is in charge of all the armed forces in the state!

The authority was greatly expanded at once.

In front of Tijuana's famous Rosarito Beach is the new security department building, where the Drug Enforcement Administration, National Defense Guard and other offices are located.

Going in and out, it's so lively.

The 300 meters from the entrance are prohibited to approach, in order to be careful of drug dealers' suicide bombs. There is also an apron on the top floor, and two AH-64s nicknamed "Apache" are parked!

It was surrounded by layers of security agencies, EDTV, and EDN (Mexico Emergency Response Team).

This area suddenly became the center of Tijuana, and housing prices rose accordingly.

At this time, in an office.

Victor held a cigarette in his mouth and listened to the report of the police officer below. On a whim, he wanted to hear about the efficiency of the Tijuana grassroots police station and solve some problems.

"We received a total of 2,176 reports of crimes in June, and solved 2,170 of them, with a case handling rate of 99%!" The head of the Tijuana Police Department talked loudly, and his words were full of saliva.

"How long have you been sitting in this position?" Victor suddenly asked, frowning.

"3 years".

"Then why do I have a report here showing that a total of 7,712 people have disappeared in Tijuana in the past three years! 2,176 of them are foreigners. In the past June, 322 people were missing. The families of these people have reported the case. You solved it ?"

Victor threw the documents collected by the intelligence department in front of him and said with a dark face, "From today on, you go home, damn! Even a leashed dog can do things better than you at this efficiency."

He slapped the table and stood up, "You all should retire and give up your position."

This is his purpose.

We plan to put some police officers from the police force who have made meritorious deeds but who can no longer adapt to high-intensity training due to injuries into positions. From top to bottom, they must be our own people.

The people in charge of the police station below looked at each other, opened their mouths, and trembled in fear when they saw Victor's cold eyes.

Retire directly in place.

After they walked out with their heads lowered, they happened to pass by a group of young police officers.

"Bah! Victor...is going to use these guys? Do they know how to handle cases?" the chief of Tijuana's 12th neighborhood said angrily, "I have worked in the police force for 20 years, and he asked me to retire..."

"If you speak louder, maybe you don't need to retire and just reincarnate." The chief of the 13th block next to him interrupted.

The former stuck its neck immediately, like a chicken.

"Mr. Lucas, what should we do?"

Everyone looked at the chief of the Tijuana Police Department, who frowned and looked at them, "What should we do? What else are you going to do? I am 56 years old, and I am satisfied with being able to retire, especially when Victor comes to power. You all know his temper. He didn’t have time to take care of him before, but now he’s in charge of the police station. It’s impossible to let him go. If he can make us decent, we have to obey him.”

After saying that, he left.

The chiefs of other neighborhoods looked at each other, some of them were unwilling to do so, but what could they do? Baja California was Victor's choice!

I can only sigh and walk away.

In the conference room.

Victor looked at the police officers in front of him, "Many of you have been following me for a long time, and of course there are also new ones."

He said, nodding towards Sweet and his little friend, Piet.

Originally, they would not be included in the promotion list, but due to Kennedy's recommendation and the credit for catching Armando, all the team members of the "Fishermen Organization" were promoted.

Sweet and Piet looked at Victor excitedly. When they knew that they would be the heads of the neighborhood police station, they didn't sleep well for two whole nights!

"I have one request right now, to severely crack down on other criminal organizations in Tijuana. Do you know what the United States calls our city now?"

"Fecal! (Shit!)"

"This makes me very unhappy. Don't I want to lose face?"

"The local gangs are very rude. I didn't come, but they still behaved like this. I came, and they still don't back down. Isn't it just a waste of my coming? Beat me! I'll beat the one who shows up!"

"Especially in Blocks 12 and 11, there are the most drug addicts, thieves, refugees and smugglers. In addition to greeting the local gangs, we also have to log them into their household registrations. The task is very difficult. Which of you will do it?"

"Director, I'm going to Block 11!" An EDM veteran raised his hand. There was a scar on his face. The one eye looked strange and he was blind.

"Director, leave Block 12 to me." Sweet also raised his hand.

"Okay, I'll leave these two places to you. I will send EDN (Mexico Emergency Response Team) to assist you. I have only one request, let the locals be polite!"

"Yes, sir!"

everyone stood up and shouted.

Victor's identity is that he can't talk to the gangsters. That would be a loss of status. Have you ever seen any president go to fight bandits?

Just leave it to the people below.

After the tasks were arranged, a group of people came out of the conference room.

Piette pulled Sweet excitedly, "Man, what are you going to do? I can't wait to show off my skills."

"What should we do? Sweep over, some of us have guns, why should we keep a low profile? You pick up the brothers tonight, and I will apply for the EDN3 team, bring the rocket launcher and flamethrower, and go clean up the gangsters and eliminate evil!"

Sweet's eyes glowed.

He has long been dissatisfied with local security.

Tijuana has a permanent population of more than 3 million, which breeds a lot of filth. Now if the boss wants to clean it up, let's do it.

When inviting guests to dinner, you have to clean your own house first.

Drug traffickers are the cancer of Mexico.

And which gangsters are the branches beside the cancer.

You can't ignore them, or they'll bite you in the face.