"Is this what you call a simple demand?"
Quintero's face stiffened.
An all-out war against drug traffickers would mean overturning the entire existing order in Mexico, after all, even an evil order is still an order, and it's certainly better than Haiti.
To a certain extent, the interests of the comprador and bureaucratic classes wouldn't change, and the drug traffickers had no intention of rebelling, they were just sucking blood from the common people.
"They control 90% of the national wealth," Quintero said in a low voice.
Victor knew who "they" were in his mouth.
When Calderon announced the drug war in 2006, on December 13th, he sent naval, land, and air forces, 19 planes, 38 helicopters, a maritime patrol fleet, 246 vehicles, 29 drug-sniffing dogs, and over 5000 soldiers to surround and suppress the Michoacán drug trafficking organizations.
Do you know how many were ultimately eradicated?
A total of 5023 plantations destroyed, 127 firearms confiscated, 120 drug traffickers arrested.
What the hell kind of results are these?
That's called a picnic!
Don't be fooled by the number of plantations, they're worthless. Drug trafficking organizations after the Millennium had long stopped getting rich by cultivation alone, they had shifted to trafficking new types of drugs like KKY, which offered higher profits for lower costs.
In other words, these operations were just a "face" thrown to Calderon by someone else.
Whether or not Calderon died of anger is unknown, but when he declared the drug war a failure, he said something profound, "The drug traffickers are being nourished very well in this land."
"Are you afraid?" Victor suddenly asked.
"Of course not!" Quintero quickly replied.
"Then you're still worried, without confidence?"
Now, the other side was silent.
"They control 90% of Mexico's wealth, and I control a police force of nearly 4000 men, and Baja California will establish a 15000-strong National Guard, I also have 6 armed helicopters, a maritime patrol boat, 17 armored cars, 117 artillery pieces of various calibers, and countless firearms!"
"I just want to ask!"
"How much US dollars can stop my 150mm artillery!" Victor's eyes were aggressive.
Warlord!
NTM, this is a warlord!
But when a gun is pointed at your head, there will always be applause: "Wow, what a badass feeling."
Shock was also written on Quintero's face.
4000 men in the police force?
With the kind of weapons and equipment he had seen on the streets, it wasn't an exaggeration to say that no army in Mexico could face him in direct combat.
Did Quintero not know what a sorry state the military was in?
Punching the clock in the army by day, being a drug trafficker by night.
It's all about working two jobs.
"Sir, I don't understand politics, but I've always believed, fist = right, what's mine should be fought for, don't worry, if anyone dares to snatch our food at the table, I'll smash their mouth," Victor spoke with a defiant tone.
"Your name should be hung in Mexican history just like your father's, your statues should stand forever in front of the Mexican Official Residence, your names are Mexico!" Victor's voice was laced with seduction.
Sitting beside, Alejandro: ????
During Calderon's time, there were 15 people in the Presidential Guard who had connections with drug traffickers, and some even attempted poisoning.
Sometimes the struggle does not pick means!
...
Mexico City. Presidential Residence.
Carlos had barely eaten in almost two days.
Quintero had disappeared!
And he knew far too many of his secrets.
Even, one could say, scandals.
Thump thump thump.
The sound of footsteps approached as the secretary Ajit ran in. He had been busy lately and still looked flustered. Glancing at Carlos's back, he took a deep breath, "Sir."
"Speak."
"According to the investigation by the Mexican National Security Intelligence Agency (Cisen), he is likely to have been abducted by some 'professionals'. Reviewing his contacts, we found that before disappearing, he was in touch with a female journalist named Leanna Lazaro Cortes."
And that female journalist had been investigated by Cisen too; she was arrested by Victor while interviewing in Baja California!
Carlos whipped around, "Victor?"
Ajit nodded.
It's just that Spanish swear words are too scarce, Carlos's old face turned red with effort, and at last, he could only say two words, "Bastard!"
Ajit looked up at him, then dropped another piece of news, "Cisen found out that Cuauhtémoc took a leave claiming a family emergency, but... we discovered he took his entire family to Baja California."
"Cuauhtémoc?!!"
If Victor was a "jumping grasshopper" in Carlos's eyes, then Cuauhtémoc was a thorn in his side, a nail in his coffin.
In the factions of Mexico, Cuauhtémoc had always been a challenger to his position.
And Carlos, wanting to be re-elected, always guarded against him.
Even some of the "methods" of the traffickers were sanctioned by him, and his wife's injured leg was the result of him ordering a car hit!
It was all to sabotage his reputation.
Many opportunists, seeing no future in following him, changed their stance.
But to see the man he'd kept down struggling to rise up, and not only that, planning to join forces with another "Bastard"?
This just couldn't be.
Carlos's bald head was radiating a menacing aura.
"Kill him! Get someone to kill him!"
His voice echoed hysterically in the office.
I can't beat Victor...
But I sure as hell can't lose to you, can I?
...
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