Working as a police officer in Mexico

"Nonsense, you believe what's on TV?" the husband raised his eyebrows, looking at his wife's panicked state, took a deep breath, mustered a smile, and embraced her, "Don't worry, I'm here, no need to be afraid, go get the things we've prepared."

The wife's emotions stabilized a bit, she nodded, and hurried to the master bedroom to take out a wrapped piece of paper.

When the husband unfolded it, it turned out to be an upper-body photo of Victor in a police uniform, looking dashing and heroic.

In the bottom right corner was written a phrase: "The drug war never ends, there's only the beginning and the ongoing!"

The man pasted this photo at the entrance.

These things had been prepared long ago. Experience tales at My Virtual Library Empire

If ordinary citizens were like this, one could imagine how panicked the heads of the Sinaloa Drug Cartel were?

Luis Adolfo Loera, Guzman's cousin and one of the Sinaloa shot-callers, the Commander of God's Division 1st Regiment, prepared to take off in a helicopter with his wife and children as soon as he heard the Anti-Drug Force had entered.

Resist?

What a joke!

There are fewer than 7,000 drug traffickers in Culiacán, how can I resist?

If I stay, I might as well wait for death.

He fled without a second thought.

"Quick, bring my gold pillow! I can't sleep without it," he shouted at his bodyguard, who had no choice but to run down from the helicopter back to the bedroom and fetch the 15-kilogram pillow.

This... glaringly golden.

Don't you find it disgustingly tacky?

Does resting your head on it feel comfortable?

Two Bell 212 helicopters took off directly.

"Head south, don't go towards the Northern Suburbs!" Luis Adolfo Loera shouted, and the pilot gestured with his hand.

But clearly, they had forgotten something...

They hadn't informed their subordinates.

The drug traffickers on the south side had no idea their boss had run off; mistaking the two low-flying helicopters in the night for enemy aircraft, they opened fire with anti-aircraft guns!

Someone even shouldered an RPG at the balcony top, firing straight at the helicopters!

One of them had its tail wing blown off, tumbling down from the sky, while the one numbered B7412 carrying Luis Adolfo Loera, a Sinaloa shot-caller, turned into a fireball.

Exploding in the air, it instantly lit up the surroundings.

"Report to command, we've shot down 2 helicopters, no casualties on our side!" exclaimed the jubilant commander from the south side.

Uh...

Itano Balbo from Italy has something to say!

Leslie James McNair from America!

They have something to say too.

Other shot-callers, unable to contact Luis Adolfo Loera, assumed he had fled, and they each made their own escape.

But before running, of course, they had to take their wealth with them!

Culiacán was left in ruins!

As the sun rose again!

Report after report from the front lines arrived at Kennedy's command center. He was about to issue an order for a full charge, but a staff officer held him back.

"General, what you should do now is not head for Culiacán, but station troops in Chihuahua State. There are still four regiments of God's Battalion there, and if we commit all our forces, the enemy might circle behind us, putting Sonora State and our rear at great risk!"

Kennedy Heisenberg felt a chill down his spine as soon as he heard this, and the more he thought about it, the more correct it seemed. He was one to listen to advice.

Stability!

More important than anything else.

He looked at the young staff officer who had spoken, his eyes sharp, and even... cunning!

Kennedy rarely described someone this way.

"So what's your suggestion?" he asked.

The officer pointed at the war room's sand table and said, "We should launch a surprise attack on Juarez!"

Everyone in the office was taken aback.

"Cross from Sonora State through Chihuahua State Desert, seize Juarez while the Culiacán conflict is still ongoing, liberating the state!"

"Even if those four regiments counterattack, we can push back from behind into Chihuahua State and sweep over other towns."

The staff officer is rather bold!

Kennedy felt a pain in his rear as he listened, and he looked at the other person, "What if our troops don't take Juarez at the first attempt?"

The other person's expression froze, and his eyebrows furrowed tightly.

Many tactics require execution by people.

If the soldiers are not up to the mark, and the equipment is poor, it's tough no matter how you slice it.

If you replaced them with Italian soldiers to carry out the "White Plan," do you think it would be successful?

Even Poland wouldn't surrender that quickly.

"Furthermore, we don't have that many soldiers right now, and the rest of the rookies are still training in the rear," Kennedy shook his head. Seeing that the other person looked a bit downcast, he smiled and patted his shoulder, "But your plan is excellent and bold; I believe you'll become a great commander and even a strategist."

"What's your name?"

The staff officer brightened up upon hearing this comfort, "Erich Manstein!"

"Lieutenant, your opinion is good. Could you help me convey an order to the 3rd Regiment? Command them to block the highways in Chihuahua State and Sinaloa State. Even a dog must remain loyal!"

"Understood!"

...

"The Sinaloa hit the Anti-Drug Force and sank!"

"Culiacán is free!"

"The end days of the Sinaloa Drug Cartel have come!"

Newspapers with various headlines were distributed for "free" on the streets of Baja California and Sonora State.

This was a policy proposed by the Governor's Mansion: "Information for free."

A total of twelve publications enjoyed subsidies; their only task was to distribute newspapers for free on the streets, and the papers could not display any dissatisfaction with Victor or the Anti-Drug Force.

Of course, some owners disagreed.

In the evening, someone reported that this owner was collaborating with drug traffickers and was sentenced to 21 years of fixed-term imprisonment, with all his property confiscated.

"Another victory won!"

"Long live Victor!"

"Hey!"

The streets were filled with joy.

Similarly, Victor, inside the security department building, was also very happy.

His subordinates were reliable.

His face glowed with pride.

"Sir, Nurnisha Kalis would like to see you," announced Ms. Krista Schroeder, his chief secretary and part-time lover, as she opened the door.

"Let her in."

Nurnisha Kalis was the head of the United Nations International Narcotics Control Board Secretariat, and she hadn't left Mexico yet.

Soon, dressed in a woman's suit, she walked in, first extending her congratulations and expressing her admiration, "Mexico is the most forceful drug-banning nation I've ever seen!"

"My dream is not to allow a single drug to flow from Mexico to the world; we live here and have to be responsible for everyone."

Nurnisha Kalis nodded in approval.

"Governor Victor, the internal United Nations conference on drugs, originally scheduled for September 10, has been moved up to three days from now. Do you have time?"

This matter had been discussed earlier.

Victor hadn't expected it to be moved up.

He pondered for a moment and nodded, "Of course, may I ask how many people will be at this conference?"

"173 countries!"

Victor's expression suddenly stiffened.

Nurnisha Kalis looked at him, "Don't be nervous; but I think you'll need to prepare sufficient material, and..."

She hesitated, "There will be those with opposing views."

She mentioned this considering the US Dollar.

Victor burst into laughter upon hearing this.

"Then, may I bring a submachine gun?"

...