Working as a police officer in Mexico

The appearance of the C-17 made President Alfredo Cristiani Burkard breathe a long sigh of relief.

His little brain thought of many things rapidly; it must be that US-Mexico relations have eased, perhaps even some trades behind the scenes. Either way, for Mexico to get the "new products" from the United States, could it still be stolen?

Hahaha, that joke is too cold.

Alfredo Cristiani Burkard thought, could there have been an agreement reached between the United States and Mexico? After all, weaponry requires a lot of experimentation, maybe Mexico is just the testing ground.

Standing at the back of the welcome crowd, Salvador's Intelligence Bureau Director Ignacio Gutierrez looked solemn.

After all, he is a CIA informant...

And it wasn't the other side who found him, he "brought his own meal," which just shows that in Latin America, the allure of the United States is still too strong for them.

Just like East University in Southeast Asia...

The surrounding small countries also have a high sense of cultural identity, otherwise, why would South Koreans steal so many festivals and cultures?

In their bones, they still retain the awe and envy of their ancestors towards the tribute state.

After the three C-17s slowly stopped, the cargo doors at the rear slowly opened, the aircraft's built-in lights were very bright, and then a resounding slogan emerged from two of the planes.

Teams ran out in orderly lines.

The military police uniforms were different from those of the Mexican Army, the former used pure black training uniforms, cotton-polyester anti-scratch grid cloth + 30D elastic breathable surface material, even the helmets were pure black, equipped with PVS-7 monocular night vision, and they each carried different firearms.

Holding a rifle similar to the German HK33, some also carried sniper rifles, wearing skull masks, exuding an imposing presence that caught everyone's attention.

"If this isn't the army, I'll eat the s*** my dog left!" said a Spanish reporter in the Journalist District, gritting his teeth.

"Don't deceive us on meals and drinks, this is our heavily armed police!" a Mexican reporter next to him maintained stubbornly.

"Your police use TPz-1 armored vehicles and M1A2s too?"

"And… what's that? Sikorsky UH-60 'Black Hawk' and Apache! F***in' hell, that's U.S. Military Special Forces equipment, you use that to fight gangs?"

The Mexican reporter looked at the tank coming down from another plane, feeling a bit numb, but still holding firm, "That's not an M1A2, that's the Fire Lizard, developed independently by Mexico, so what if it's equipped for the police? Is there a law stating police firepower must be weaker than the army?"

"Besides, that's how we deal with drug traffickers and gangs in Mexico, not convinced? Ask a drug trafficker, if it's not forbidden, then it's allowed!"

"Yeah, if it's not forbidden!" a Cuban reporter echoed, glaring with eyes wide, seemingly ready for a fight.

It's not like it hasn't been done before...

The fighting spirit of Mexican reporters is still quite strong.

It's said there's a rule on the Mexican national channel: "When fighting, use of equipment is allowed, and it's reimbursed by the company," with that rule, every worker would be happy.

The other reporters from various countries all stood by with bizarre expressions...

Alright, alright, you're correct, but what's with that palpable killing intent?

This thing called presence is mysterious, but anyone who has served or has veterans in their family knows, those who have killed or seen battle, once they get serious, are still quite intimidating.

However, what's most captivating everybody are the new individual combat equipment, even the Salvadoran Defense Minister couldn't name them.

"Mr. President, the Mexicans are here." The secretary behind the president noticed that President Alfredo hadn't moved, and whispered.

His eyes focused, body shivered, and he saw five Mexicans approaching; at the lead was Casare, accompanied by the Minister of Police, Robert Bill.

"Welcome, Mr. Casare!" President Alfredo stepped forward a few paces and extended his hand with a smile.

Fat Casare grinned and shook his hand, "Thank you very much. This is our Minister of Police, Major General Robert Bill."

Alfredo nodded with a smile, "Hello."

"This is our Deputy Minister of Police, Major General Alfred Schlieffen, and he is also the commander of the Salvadoran Gendarmerie, fully responsible for this operation."

Casare pointed to another man next to him, who was very thin, but whose eyes emanated a glow; he looked very resilient, and Alfred Schlieffen saluted the Salvadoran President.

President Alfredo just reached out his hand.

BOOM!!!

A massive explosion outside the airport startled him, making him retract his neck in fright; the hair on his neck stood up as he anxiously scanned the surroundings, while the surrounding reporters were also scared, looking nervously around, but at least they didn't run around chaotically.

Following the explosion, was the rapid sound of gunfire.

"Looks like someone in Salvador isn't very welcoming of us." Casare remained calm upon hearing the explosion, having witnessed many scenes like this before.

He glanced at President Alfredo, his eyes full of ridicule.

You're about to lie flat on the ground.

Alfredo wasn't too shabby either, having survived a civil war, but a civilian is always a civilian; a little explosion scared him like this.

"Sir, from now on, we will take over your security."

"Alright, thank you for your trouble." Alfredo's face looked extremely grim.

I'm hosting guests here, and you pull something like this, could you not bully me in private instead?