Mayor Jose Lopez sat behind his desk, wiping sweat and exhausting his phone with calls that went unanswered. He called the local garrison, and as soon as they heard his hope for soldiers to maintain order,
they simply hung up the phone.
"Do you even listen to yourself?"
"What do we use to maintain stability?"
"You mean with soldiers?"
"Sorry, they're out there getting chased and shot at."
The culture in Mexico is such that by day they are soldiers, by night they become drug traffickers, carrying their weapons to join the battles of various cartels. If they win, they get a bonus, if they lose... well, the garrison can ask the security department for condolence money.
Unexpected, right?
In 2007, the second year of Calderon's drug war, he suddenly wanted to see the list of military sacrifices, intending to pay his respects or to tell the people how many were sacrificing for the nation.
And the result?
Over 60,000 people had died in 2006.
F*ck!
The entire Mexican Army had only about 200,000 members; you're talking about practically half of them being dead.
And the whereabouts of the consolation money were even murkier.
This made Calderon question for the first time if there was any future in Mexico's war on drugs. You eradicate drugs, can you eradicate corrupt officials?
Not even he was clean himself.
So, the number of soldiers stationed in various places was never full.
Jose Lopez, desperate and aggravated, finally snapped, "Damn you, Victor, it was great for you to stay hidden away on Guadalupe Island, what are you doing in Ensenada City!"
"Sir, speaking ill of someone behind their back isn't very nice behavior." A voice came from the door, startling Jose Lopez, who looked up to see five people walking in, with a very familiar man leading them.
"Victor!" he stood up immediately.
Victor smiled. "Don't be nervous. I'm a very peaceful person, Mr. Mayor. I heard some drug traffickers were causing trouble, and I came to help."
Jose Lopez was all too "familiar" with him.
The bodies of those drug traffickers who stormed the coast are still in the morgue, practically overflowing it!
"May I know why you in Ensenada City... eh?" Victor corrected himself, frowning, "are behaving so uselessly!"
"You can't deal with drug traffickers, thieves, or robbers? Can you tell me why?"
Jose Lopez stammered, his chubby face going numb.
"Are you involved in a deal with drug traffickers?" Victor suddenly asked coldly, causing the other man to widen his eyes and shake his hands frantically, "No, no, absolutely not possible."
Victor nodded, picking up a cigar box on the table, "Gurkha Black Dragon?"
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A new headline popped into Casare's mind.
"Shocking! Mr. Victor is so frugal, he even picks up cigarettes to smoke."
...
Jose Lopez was killed by drug traffickers!
The news was broadcast overnight.
All the ordinary people watching the TV and listening to the radio panicked, but then they heard the presenter shift tone, "But don't worry, the situation in Ensenada City is under control with Mr. Victor leading!"
"The gentlemen at the Guadalupe Island Police Station are eradicating the rebellious drug traffickers, our city is safe, please trust us!"
The traffickers were immediately labeled as rebels.
This made maneuvering even easier.
The presenter took off his headphones, looking at the police officer in front of him and the gun in his hand, and offered an awkward smile.
"Good, rest assured of your safety, nothing will happen with us here," the officer with the face mask nodded in satisfaction.
The presenter bitterly smiled inwardly.
Are you the police or bandits? Taking over the TV station just like that.
The fighting continued until the early hours of the next morning.
The whole Ensenada City was a complete mess.
The bodies of drug traffickers were strewn across the streets, there were very few pedestrians on the road, and even those who dared go out were carefully sticking to the walls, quickly hiding away at the first sign of trouble.
And it must be said that the Mexican Government's response was ridiculously slow!
Ensenada City was a war zone all night, yet there was no support from other cities until after 8 a.m. the following morning, when a sluggish convoy finally moved into the city.
All from nearby city police forces.
They clutched their guns nervously as they looked at the bodies on the ground.
But the weapons equipped by these officers...
They were outdated, some even carried the French Army's MAS Mle 1936, relics from World War II.
Are they expected to fight drug traffickers with these?
Right after the convoy entered the city, Victor sent a message inviting them to gather at the city hall.
To discuss matters of the aftermath.
He planned a meeting...
To see who could be won over, and who was the enemy!
...
<img data-ywcc-imgId="10054603" data-ywcc-path="/imgChapter/23506817501037701/26228101101623904/10054603/fa60d7076d69d493da2329066d5f72e23Sroepm9G1OeJM3.jpg">
MAS Mle 1936!