Chapter 252 Pick it up! I told you to pick it up!!

Chapter 252 Pick it up! I told you to pick it up!!

A little bit of uranium 238 is enough to make people "execute the whole family"!

What kind of person are you.

You little jerk, you dare to play this.

You are Lu Bu riding Dian Wei - brave on top of brave.

However, Best was also impressed by the Soviets' character of "recognizing money, not caring about the chaos in the world".

Brother, although you are a jerk, you can't drag us down with you.

This is not good!

If the five good people know, there will probably be a bloody storm.

Best kicked Xironimus's head in a rage. This kick was not light, and the sound of the other party's neck breaking could be heard.

He folded the bill of lading and hid it in his pocket.

I will tell Victor later.

The headache has to be left to him.

Do you know what to do if you get into trouble?

First smoke a cigarette calmly, and then think about how to let others push the responsibility to others.

Anyway, the boss can solve it.

As Best and his bodyguards walked out of the coffee shop, they ran into two policemen. They came here after hearing the gunshots. They had no intention of arresting anyone, so they came slowly.

They only made a few hundred dollars a month, so they didn't have the energy to fight.

As a result, they ran into them.

Brother, didn't you run after you shot?

Several people stared at each other, and Best's face tightened, and he put his hands in his arms.

"Get down! Get down!" The two policemen saw his movements and thought he was going to pull out a gun, and shouted loudly.

This was much milder than the Americans. If it were them, they would have emptied the magazines and taken administrative leave.

"Don't be nervous, Банкноты (banknotes), Банкноты (banknotes)." Best said in a tacky Russian.

When this person came to a strange era, the first two foreign languages ​​he learned were either swear words or about money. Anyway, the former was about caring for his mother, and the latter was about his own interests.

Seeing the ruble, the two policemen looked at each other, one of them went over and took the money away, and the other stood with a gun.

Hi, still very cautious.

Best smiled, and when he saw them get the money, he waved to him. He bowed to the two of them in a gentlemanly manner, and left with his bodyguards.

When he passed by the police, his smile was restrained, and he returned to his dead face.

He hurried back to the hotel and said to the bodyguard, "Don't bother me unless it's important."

He closed the door, locked it, took out the satellite phone he carried with him, and called Victor directly.

He was so anxious that he couldn't wait to get his eyebrows on fire, and finally, someone answered the phone.

"Hello"

"Sir, I have something to report to you."

Tijuana.

Victor looked at the street outside the window, and there was a different taste in the dark night.

Mexico is seven hours behind the Soviet Union. There is a bright sun there, and here it's peeing in the middle of the night.

When he heard that an Italian businessman worked for an intelligence agency and bought an unknown amount of uranium 238, Victor's first thought was, will those idiots keep it?

During World War II, because Italy had no warehouse to store medicine, it piled hundreds of tons of explosives in the Church of San Nazaro in the middle of the city. As a result, the church spire was struck by lightning... The city was instantly destroyed by one-fifth of the explosion, causing a large number of civilian casualties.

"Why do they want this? Aren't they best at prisoner-of-war camps?" Victor was holding a cup of coffee and joking with interest.

In North Africa, after the British army accepted the surrender of Italy, there were too many prisoners of war and it was too late to build a prisoner-of-war camp. They could only ask the quartermaster to give the Italian prisoners of war raw materials and let them build a prisoner-of-war camp to lock themselves up.

Ancestral craftsmanship.

"Go and take it out. Don't refuse the goods that are delivered to your door."

Best hesitated, "Boss, this thing... Mexico can't play with it."

He said it very tactfully.

Don't bring trouble to yourself.

What kind of stuff is Mexico, what kind of stuff are you, don't think that you are now the governor of the north and sound famous.

If you dare to do this in North America.

The Americans will not fight in the Persian Gulf, and will directly turn around to attack you with aircraft carriers.

"Do you think I'm Italian?" Victor laughed, not hiding his ridicule of them. If it weren't for him dragging his feet, someone wouldn't leave an unfinished project.

"It's best, it's best to send someone to pick me up, sir, I have a hunch that the Italians won't let it go so easily!" Best said worriedly.

"Don't worry, I will send someone to pick you up. After getting the goods, leave the Soviet area as soon as possible. If you are caught by the KGB, you will have a hard time. It's best not to pick it up in person, find a third party."

"Be careful."

"Understood."

After hanging up the phone, Best took a deep breath, frowned, called the bodyguard in, and looked at the other party.

The other party was stared at by his eyes and was a little at a loss.

No way...

I haven't heard that the boss has any special hobbies.

"Take this delivery note..."

At this moment, Victor looked up and saw the waning moon in the sky, and felt that things were going to be turbulent.

Of course, he would not want this thing.

But he could use it as a token of his loyalty.

For example...

Call Pearson, the senior assistant of the FBI in North America and the secretary of Director Floyd I. Clark.

That was the person who came to take Uday away last time.

The other party was startled when he received his message, but soon smiled and said, "Governor Victor is a rare guest, you don't come to me often."

"I think Mexico should have closer contact with the FBI." Victor said with a smile, and went straight to the point, "I know you want to teach the CIA a lesson..."

"No, no, no, Mr. Victor, we all serve the United States, and there is no hatred between us."

Are you pretending to be MB?

The dogs on the roadside know who to bite when you fight.

CIAorFBI, it will choose or, because both sides are better at barking than dogs.

But the more self-proclaimed civilized people are, they have to wear suits and ties when doing dirty things.

Will those good people say that they control more than 95% of high-end and low-end weapons in Africa?

People with status can't just reach out like barbarians, they have to pretend.

"Do the FBI and CIA have a good relationship?"

"Then it seems that it is best for me to leave this matter to them. After all, Italy wants to import uranium 238 from the Soviet Union. This problem belongs to them..."

"Ah? Ah!" Pearson's voice was stuck, and then it was directly raised!

"What!!"

Victor took the microphone away and listened to the duck-like screams inside. He felt relieved.

Pretend! Pretend!

In fact, Italy has nuclear bombs, but that thing belongs to NATO, and as we all know, NATO belongs to the United States.

Putting it there is just a deterrent effect, telling others not to cause trouble for NATO, but it does not mean that the United States will allow Italy to study nuclear weapons on its own.

The key is here, and what you put there is just a prototype car.

You told me that you are going to build a factory now, this...this...

"Goodbye, Mr. Pearson." Victor hung up the phone, and just as he hung up, the phone on the other side rang hurriedly.

He was not in a hurry at all. After slowly smoking a cigarette, the other party called him seven or eight times in a row. He picked up the phone and sat on the chair with his feet on the table, "Hello."

"Victor, leave this matter to the FBI..." Pearson spoke as soon as he picked up the phone.

"CIA is in charge of overseas matters..."

"Let the CIA eat shit, those damn bastards, CTMDB, who is good friends with the CIA, we are enemies!" Pearson said righteously.

Victor wanted to laugh, but he felt that this was the basic operation of politicians.

What shame, what can that thing have.

"My intelligence agency found this clue, and we also know that the person commissioned by Italy is a businessman named Xilonimus..."

"How much uranium 238 is there?"

"It's still being closed. Don't worry, I will contact you as soon as possible."

Pearson, "I will tell the director about this matter, thank you very much!"

Don't just thank me.

You have to show your deeds, but from his look, he didn't think about it at all. Victor doesn't pamper you, he asked for it directly.

"Sir, I need a few F16s, can I?"

I, Victor, give me money! (Monkey stretches out his hand).

Pearson on the other end was totally surprised, he was stunned, "Hasn't it sponsored a batch?"

"We need more, sir, the drug dealers' firepower has been getting more and more fierce recently. Even my intelligence personnel told me that they have prepared aircraft. We must ensure that their weapons are crushed, otherwise..."

Pearson's head was as big as a bull, "I will report this to the director."

He had already labeled the other party with two words in his heart: "Greed".

Victor smiled and thanked him. If I'm not greedy, who am I? As long as I'm greedy, everyone is greedy.

After hanging up the phone, he took a puff of cigarette, a little headache, and poor sleep quality recently.

"Sir, do you need... me to massage you?" A voice came from the door.

Victor looked up and saw Miss Christa Schroeder walking outside, his expression was stunned.

The woman was wearing a black miniskirt and stockings. Most importantly, her underpants were exposed, red.

Not to mention, they were quite round.

She was wearing something sexy, no, very sexy.

Victor's Adam's apple rolled subconsciously. Before he could speak, she came in and stood directly behind him. She put her hands on his forehead and gently and slowly put his head on her chest!

Her thumbs were rubbing his temples slowly.

Smelling the perfume on his body and feeling the relief on his head, Victor couldn't help but close his eyes.

Suddenly, he felt that the hand on his head was gone. He raised his head in confusion and saw a shocking scene.

Christa Schroeder took off all her clothes and looked at Victor, covering her chest with a look of piercing eyes, "Sir... am I good-looking?"

Is there any man who can remain indifferent to beauty?

Of course there is?

Liu Xiahui.

"Put on your clothes, Christa." Victor clenched his fists and forced himself to calm down. The curves of the other party were almost perfect.

Let me put it this way, the last time I saw such a deep trench was the Mariana Trench on TV, and the Amazon is just as lush.

The other party was stunned, "Am I not beautiful?"

"Beautiful!"

"Am I not sexy?"

Victor looked at her E cup, "Sexy."

Christa Schroeder approached him, "Then why."

"I can't give you what you want, you are a good girl..."

"I can be a mistress, just like Eva Braun, sir, I have liked you for a long time!"

Victor opened his mouth, but before he could react, the other party rushed over and pushed Victor to the ground.

A pair of stockings directly covered the "lens".

...

Four hours later. (My time)

Victor looked at the messy office, then looked at the bra thrown on the table, and laughed and shook his head.

A little crazy.

He lit a cigarette for himself.

After a cigarette, he lived like a god.

Of course, Victor is not a virgin. Women are a spice in life. Of course, you can try it occasionally.

Control your desires and enjoy your desires.

The mustache has six mistresses.

What's wrong with me, Victor, having a few?

Don't mention it, my head is unusually clear now.

It's just that I have been holding it in for too long.

He picked up the bro, put it under his nose and smelled it, put it in the cabinet, and pressed the phone, "Who is on duty in the secretariat, come here."

Every moment, he heard footsteps in the corridor, jogging, and then saw Traud Jong push open the door and come in. He was startled to see the messy office and frowned, "Why is there a smell of heather?"

Victor paused, "Find someone to clean the office."

"Oh, okay!" The young Traud Jong nodded hurriedly. Victor walked out of the office with a smile, feeling that there was a pair of eyes staring at him from behind.

Fortunately, he was on the top floor and had only one office.

Victor looked at the elevator, and then thought about taking the stairs. He exercised, his belly was up, and he was a little out of breath after four hours. Just as he walked down, he happened to meet Jason Bourne running up.

"Hi, Jason."

"Sir!" Jason Bourne looked at Victor's smile. What happened to the boss? So happy? Found a woman?

"What's the matter?"

Jason Bourne nodded hurriedly, his eyes shining, "Guzman, brain hemorrhage!"

"Huh? Huh!" Victor raised his head in surprise, uttered two tones in his throat, raised his head and looked at the other party, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah! Several of our informants took turns to confirm, they didn't expect that one of their bodyguards was bribed by us."

"Great!"

"Is he dead?"

"Not yet, but according to the informant, Guzman's cousin Arturo forbids anyone to visit, and only said to the outside world that it was a minor problem. Moreover, he has a hunch that he will be silenced, and hopes that we can give him some money to let him run away."

"How much does he want?"

"200,000 US dollars."

"Why run away! Let him come to work for me, in my territory, what is there to be afraid of? Where can he run to? Nowhere is safer than here!"

Jason Bourne always feels...

The boss is reluctant to spend 200,000.

"This is a model. We should tell everyone that as long as they work for us, in principle, all previous crimes will be forgiven."

Well, in principle, not in principle? That depends on Victor's mood.

At that time, these people will be withdrawn as examples, and they will be responsible for bragging about Victor's magnanimity every day.

"Should we launch an attack? Take down Sinaloa?"

"No hurry."

Victor chuckled, very sinister, "You said that this news was blocked by Arturo? Then we will tell others, after all, everyone has the right to know, let the news play in a loop, and then send people to the front line to use the loudspeaker without stopping."

"I want to make them start chaos!"

"Arturo wants to take the position? Then he needs to ask Guzman's cronies if they agree. When there is an internal conflict, we will push them forward in one wave, and it would be best if they fight."

This is an open conspiracy, which is actually very easy to solve. Just push Guzman out for a while, but can Arturo withdraw?

Victor found that his luck was really good recently.

At least the good luck is on his side.

Jason Bourne thought about it and nodded.

"By the way, let's vacate Villa No. 3 and let Christa Schroeder live there." Victor started to talk about something insignificant.

Jason Bourne was a smart man, he understood it immediately, it seemed that many young men were going to break up.

"Okay, I'll arrange it when I go downstairs."

Victor snorted twice, waved his hand and slowly walked downstairs.

At his position, there are many things that you just need to ask for, and there are people to help you do it.

But he is not satisfied with living in northern Mexico.

The real romance of men is power and ambition!

"I came, I saw, I conquered"!

...

Detroit.

As an industrial city.

It was foggy early in the morning.

Casare complained as soon as he came out of the hotel, "XXXX! And SB brags about the environment in the United States, it's really terrible!"

The greeting was very beautiful.

"Sir, the car is here." The doorman shouted respectfully and went up to help open the door of the taxi.

Casare thanked him, and naturally there was a bodyguard beside him who stuffed the money into his pocket.

Seeing the $100 in the banknote, the doorman smiled crookedly.

So generous!

No, too generous!

“Hi! Man, I see you again.”

As soon as Casare got in, the driver turned his head with a smile.

The former looked up and saw that this was the “chatty driver” from yesterday.

He was very excited, “Man, I understand, you must not be an ordinary person.”

“Oh? How did you tell?”

"This hotel costs more than 1,000 dollars a night."

Casare was stunned, then laughed out loud and gave him a thumbs up.

"I've seen too many people with these glasses, let me tell you..."

"Can you drive first, sir?" Casare interrupted the other party and said with a smile, "I'm in a hurry."

"Ok! Ok! Where are you going?"

"The U.S. Army Retirement Center."

"This place again, I've been there 4 times this day." The driver muttered a few words, but his feet were not slow, and he rushed out with a foot on the accelerator.

Casare looked back and another car followed.

The driver was busy talking, "Do you know who was chased by the chaos on 13th Street yesterday?"

"It was the son of the mayor of Detroit."

"?!"

The United States is really NMD about human rights equality, even the mayor's son has to be beaten.

This is the first sentence Casare thought of, and he looked up in confusion.

"Detroit is cracking down on gangs, believing that blacks are a source of instability, and resorting to violent law enforcement against black gangs such as the 13th Street. White gangs turn a blind eye. Just wait and see, it will turn into riots sooner or later." The driver sighed.

A real "crackdown on gangs".

"It's so chaotic."

"The mayor is a member of the Aryan Brotherhood."

The taxi driver had another explosive news.

Casare scratched his head, a world of magic realism.

Now, except for ghosts, everything else has been seen.

"Who do you support?"

The driver looked in the rearview mirror and smiled, "I support money. Fighting won't do me any good, right?"

Casare nodded, that was right.

While the two were chatting, they drove to the US Army Retirement Center in the central block of Detroit. The whole route should be a military retirement and re-employment center.

When he just got off the car, the driver stuck his head out, "Sir, be careful, I feel something is wrong recently, don't get involved, Detroit is hopeless."

Casare was stunned, looking at the driver's expression, and took out his business card, "If there is any danger, call me, and be careful too."

The driver took the business card, stuffed it into the gap of the car, smiled and typed OK, "God bless you!"

After that, he stepped on the accelerator and drove away.

"Victor bless you." Casare muttered a few words, took a look, and walked into the retirement center with people.

There were banners and signs outside.

And there was already an exhibition hall inside, and there were people standing fully armed inside to show people.

"Excuse me, which company are you from?" A female sergeant in a US military uniform came over and asked with a smile, with dimples on her face, looking very comfortable.

Casare looked at her and took a few more glances.

"Mexican Foreign Legion." The colleague next to him said.

The female sergeant flipped the location map in her hand, "C-21, please follow me, it's inside."

She led the way in front, she looked very cute, but her figure... was good.

"This is divided into Area A, Area B and Area C. Area A is closest to the door and has higher exposure. Area C is the worst. In Area A, I saw Military Professional Resources (MPRI), SCG International Risk, and American arms giants Colt, Lockheed Martin, Raytheon, Grumman and Northrop, about 10 companies."

"Do arms companies also need people?" Casare was stunned.

"They also have PMC companies to maintain their own interests overseas." Colleagues in the combat joint department obviously know more, "but most of them recruit special forces, and even some retired generals, so that they can satisfy their interest transfer."

Casare nodded slowly and looked at Area A. Sure enough, the exhibition halls of those big companies are very "fashionable", and they look very B-class.

"If there is a national background in Area A, most of Area B are large private organizations, such as South Africa's EO company, the UK's Control Risks (Risk Control Security Company), and Erinys International (Erinys International Security Services) registered in the British Virgin Islands."

"Erinys means the goddess of vengeance, that's it." A colleague pointed to the exhibition hall on the side of Area B, where a sculpture of the goddess was painted.

Looks... two-dimensional?

"They all look so professional." Casare sighed.

"The earliest British PMC company has been established for 200 years. They are all professional military experts. There are about 40 companies in Area B."

"And Area C..."

Needless to say, Casare has seen it with his own eyes.

Area C has no exhibition hall, but stalls.

It's the kind of job search.

Going over this row, NMD, there are hundreds!

"Most of these are private companies that accept invitations or submit application letters on their own initiative." The female sergeant walking in front said, looking back.

Casare frowned, "We are here to represent Mexico."

"That one represents Malaysia, that one represents Colombia, that one represents South Africa, and that one represents... Ethiopia." The female sergeant pointed to several stalls in the distance and said.

Although it seemed like an introduction, why did I feel humiliated?

Damn!

It's because the King of Wei hasn't taken the throne yet.

If he had taken the throne, he would have gone directly to Area A.

Even if he was a dog, he had to be the dog king.

Casare had to endure it, what else could he do if he didn't?

"Your position is here, next to Spain."

Put Mexico and Spain together?

You are not making a big deal!

Casare was obviously confused. Do you want us to fight?

What's the difference between putting the Soviet Union and RB together?

Germany and Italy are put together.

But it was arranged by the Americans. Casare could only pinch his nose and agree, and followed the other party to a slightly remote corner.

But he saw a jaw-dropping scene.

His stall was kicked down by someone, and a white man was stepping on the national flag.

"What's going on?" Casare shouted to the female sergeant.

The other party was also a little embarrassed, "Don't worry, I'll go ask, there are not enough people, it should be a misunderstanding."

A white man at the Spanish stall next to him was still clapping and laughing, obviously knowing the white man who stepped on the national flag.

And many people around were watching the joke.

"Ask! Ask TMDB!" Casare got excited and rushed up, flew up and kicked sideways, directly kicked the white man over, sat on him, grabbed his hair and slammed him to the ground.

"Hey! What are you doing! Bastard! What are you doing!" Seeing this, another Spaniard stood up and grabbed Casare's neck.

The bodyguard was about to rush over, but he stopped him, "Don't... don't do it! I'll do it myself!"

Casare's few moves directly knocked the man under his crotch unconscious. If you sit down, he can't stand it.

He grabbed the Spaniard's hair behind him with his backhand and threw him over his shoulder in a cool way!

"Wow!" A black man watching nearby whistled and applauded.

Casare kicked the other man in the face in a rage. He is a policeman, a front-line policeman, but he has recently become a second-line policeman, but it doesn't mean that he is rusty.

Without a few tricks, can you be a prison guard in Mexico?

He grabbed the other man's neck and dragged him to the Mexican flag, yelling, "Pick it up! I told you to pick it up! Pick up the flag!"

The Spaniard's nose was crooked, and he was in a daze, like a dead dog.

Casare slapped the other man in the face with his backhand, and the other man's already shaky teeth fell out.

"What are you doing! What are you doing!"

Two men in Spanish military uniforms pushed aside the crowd and ran in. Seeing the miserable state of their colleagues on the ground, they pointed at Casare and shouted.

Fatty Casare let go of his hand, and the Spaniard fell to the ground. He smiled and kicked him in the head.

He unbuttoned his suit jacket, walked in front of the two soldiers, squinted his eyes, "Hit someone, can't you see?"

"You are provoking Spain, Casare." One of them obviously knew him and shouted.

"Then let's start a war! Do you Spaniards have the guts? Do you!"

Casare pointed at the other party and asked loudly, his aura directly shocked the other party, "Do you dare?"

"Don't go too far, this is very unfriendly." Someone next to him interrupted and said.

"Too much?"

Casare laughed and turned to look at the vote canvasser. "I'll tell you what's too much, sir. You should see it, but I'm kind. This is the United States. If it were Mexico, I would burn you all to death with a flamethrower!"

He shouted, his facial muscles trembling, "Too much?! Who do you think you're talking to? Casare Gonzalez!"

"I've been to the battlefield, you know? At one time, I saw many, many excessive drug dealers, bastards like Spain, partial and idiots like you, but do you know what to do?"

"We tear those people's legs and feet apart, twist off his head, and stuff them into the toilet!"

"Spain?"

"Your era is dead! Your pride as a colonizer should be torn down, you..."

Casare looked at them, staring at them, "You will be judged!"

The two Spanish soldiers saw his eyes and shuddered. One of them swallowed his saliva, and his expression was a little nervous.

"Pick it up, go pick it up!" Casare turned sideways and pointed at the Mexican flag on the ground, "Otherwise, I will make you unable to live without Detroit."

"Even if Jesus comes, it won't work, I Casare Gonzalez said!"

His voice was loud and clear.

This is what the remnants of the old era said to the enemies who bullied it, bullied it, humiliated it, and even wanted to kill it in the past.

Many countries nearby have been colonized by Spain.

They feel very satisfied.

When I was a prison guard in Mexico, I was scolded and drug dealers laughed at me. Now I am the boss, and we have elite soldiers and brave generals under our command. I am the second in command of this group.

If I am still scolded by you?

Then why should I work hard?

Then why should I come out? I might as well die in the highland prison?

I Casare has a smiling face, but it doesn't mean that I am really easy to talk to.

Victor is the boss, I am the second, and Jesus is the third!

"Pick it up!" Someone next to him raised his hand and shouted, and the sound would spread, and the people next to him would slowly shout, and finally more and more people would shout.

"Pick it up!"

"Pick it up!"

The Spaniards' faces turned green. Actually, they did it on purpose. When they knew that Mexico was next to them, they wanted to humiliate them. After all, it was just a small country.

They were once the Spanish Empire!

In addition, the domestic propaganda about Victor was also negative, saying that he was a cannibalistic tyrant. Many Spaniards were persecuted by him and a lot of wealth was swept away.

They should be taught a lesson.

But who knew that Casare was so tough.

They started fighting at the slightest disagreement.

These two losers can't beat a fat man.

Although the Spanish soldiers thought so, they didn't dare to take action, fearing that they would be beaten up by the crowd.

The two looked at each other, and finally had to bite the bullet to pick up the national flag.

Casare grabbed it and directly grabbed one of the faces, and rubbed the footprints on his face.

The other struggled fiercely.

After rubbing it a few times, Casare raised the national flag with both hands and shouted loudly, "All imperialisms are paper tigers!"

"They are not qualified to stand in front of us and bark now!"

"The world will eventually belong to peace!"

"Victor...Long live peace!!"

Casare almost called out Victor.

He roared.

Other countries that were once oppressed also raised their hands and cheered.

World peace is the boss's belief!

...