TPz-1 armored vehicle's launchers on both sides released smoke grenades.
Taking advantage of this moment, all team members disembarked, automatically splitting into combat squads for searches.
The well-trained EDM was unfamiliar to everyone.
Including those military police.
Many people peeked out, seeing that big guy weighing nearly 10 tons, all somewhat confused. Most importantly, on the back of the armored vehicle was written: APM (Administración Penitenciaria de México), the abbreviation for Mexico Prison Management Bureau.
Holy shit!
Those prison guards had armored vehicles?
"Your police department has armored vehicles too?" A Mexican Army officer with lieutenant rank looked at the nearby superintendent with wide eyes.
The superintendent was equally confused.
We're still using revolvers, and you're already driving armored vehicles?
Were security department chiefs so selfish?
The TPz-1 armored vehicle had a plow blade mounted in front that could push aside all blocking cars, while a loudspeaker on the roof broadcast in Spanish: "Drop your weapons and surrender!"
This armored vehicle was completely dimensional reduction warfare against current drug dealers. Unless they had heavy weapons, breaking its armor was basically impossible.
The entire street was basically conquered with devastating force. Seeing things going badly, drug dealers quickly raised their hands in surrender, skillfully lying on the ground, being dragged by their hair to the street by EDM personnel.
About a dozen drug dealers remained. They roughly tore off their headscarves, revealing wretched and confused faces underneath.
They were in fear!
Also waiting for judgment like lambs.
The armored vehicle also had an MG3 7.62mm machine gun. The gunner glanced inside the vehicle, nodded, aimed at the drug dealers, and opened fire directly.
Summary execution on the spot!
One drug dealer stood up trying to run, got shot in the knee, lay on the ground wailing, still trying to crawl forward, blood everywhere on the ground.
Even beasts sought survival.
The gunner gave him special attention, even blowing apart his buttocks.
Since crime had no cost, more and more people would act recklessly.
What Victor needed to do was make these people understand.
Admit mistakes when you make them, stand straight when beaten!
You think this is the civilized world where a casual "sorry" suffices?
In Mexico, losers only had death!
"Advance! To the next district!"
Victor commanded EDM to sweep toward the next battle point. Tires rolled over drug dealer corpses, which burst like plastic bottles.
Looking at corpses everywhere, those military police exchanged glances.
Fierce... too fierce.
"Are Mexican prison guards also so capable in combat?" the army lieutenant forced out this sentence.
"Prison Management Bureau?"
"I know who he is, chief!"
A police sergeant behind the superintendent suddenly shouted, his voice so loud it made the former's eardrums ache.
"Who is it?"
"It's Victor! He's Victor, nicknamed 'Tyrant' - Victor Carlos Vieri!" the police sergeant quickly said.
This name was too familiar.
Who didn't know Altiplano Prison had produced a fierce man who dared confront drug lords and superiors, even dared hang drug lords who offended him!
"I heard the Pedro family incident a few days ago was his doing. So tragic - the whole family died."
Mexico had no secrets.
Even if the Security Minister farted, the whole city would know tomorrow.
"Where did he get money to buy armored vehicles?" the army lieutenant couldn't help asking.
This stumped the police. The superintendent held back for a long time before stammering, "Maybe... robbed from drug dealers."
...
TPz-1 armored vehicles were firepower centers wherever they went.
Under its cover, military police counterattacked the drug dealers.
Before absolute firepower, drug dealers? Even if you were a dog, you'd get two bullets.
This riot called the "11.8 Incident" didn't gradually calm down until after 7 PM, mainly because outer military forces began supporting the city.
Drug dealers had few people and could only flee first.
Though Mexican military police were the most corrupted departments, when higher-ups ordered you to provide support, could you not come?
Ultimately, Mexico was still a country!
It hadn't truly become a warlord battlefield yet.
This riot affected nearly 7 districts, covering about 300,000 people. Bodies were almost everywhere on the streets.
Crying sounds everywhere.
Victor sat in the armored vehicle, seeing an elderly man kneeling on the ground crying himself voiceless. Seven corpses were neatly arranged before him.
Everyone in his family except him had died.
Drug dealers had burst into his home and fired randomly.
Even Victor felt somewhat heartbroken by the crying. If the country had deteriorated to this extent, was there really any point in saving it?
"Kill him! Kill him!"
Just then, a commotion redirected his attention elsewhere. He saw a crowd surrounding a drug dealer with righteous indignation. The drug dealer was beaten black and blue, with surrounding police desperately protecting him.
The drug dealer hid on a car roof, looking at residents below gnashing their teeth at him, actually grinned and smiled, "Long live the Michoacán Family!"
Victor squinted.
He pulled away the driver, sat in the armored vehicle himself, floored the accelerator. The 235-kilowatt power rotated, charging toward the drug dealer while honking the horn hard.
Residents quickly scattered, even police saw trouble and ran.
The drug dealer fearfully jumped off the car roof, running hard while looking back. How could two legs outrun four wheels? He was directly knocked down, the vehicle body rolled over his leg with a scream, then even his head exploded.
"Satisfying!"
Victor exhaled deeply. He just couldn't stand anyone being more arrogant than him!
"Boss, call from Director Alejandro." An EDM member handed over the brick phone. Victor took it and said "Hello."
Alejandro on the other end sounded very heavy.
"Victor, I think you need to be mentally prepared."
"What do you mean?"
"The security department believes you're the culprit who caused this riot. Tomorrow, 12 officials including will conduct internal interrogation of you."
Damn!
You want to interrogate me?
Planning to dump all the shit on my head?
No need to think - they needed a scapegoat to apologize to TV cameras. Politicians - passing the buck was fastest.
"500,000 pesos! Alejandro!"
"This isn't a problem money can solve, Victor!"
"1 million pesos!"
"Don't tell me what can't be solved. Everyone comes out to sell - who doesn't have a price? I'll pay, you find people. If I don't walk out of that interrogation room tomorrow, Altiplano Prison prisoners will definitely escape - definitely!"
He hung up directly, threw it on the seat, rubbing his hands together - a very nervous behavior.
"Boss, should we..." Kennedy Heisenberg made a throat-slitting gesture.
"We're police, not bandits!" Victor said irritably.
"Isn't it the same?"
Victor was stunned. It seemed like in Mexico, there wasn't much difference between thieves and police. Since someone wanted to use "white" methods against him, he could also play dirty.
He had eyes that could see through others' criminal values.
He didn't believe all 12 officials were clean.
When the time came to expose their dirty laundry, let's see who would be embarrassed!
(End of Chapter)
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