Working as a police officer in Mexico

The SA.321Ja helicopter had landed at the entrance of the Guadalupe Island Police Station.

This place...

Was literally growing weeds!

The walls were mottled with brown and black, the ground cracked open, and even the national emblem hanging outside was loose and swaying in the wind. You could even see a mummified corpse hanging from the top of the police station.

There were scorch marks on it!

In Mexico, death was the main theme!

Kennedy Heisenberg directed the EDM members to establish defenses, setting up two Browning M2HB .50 inch machine guns on top of the building and a couple meters behind the rooftop, there were also two Type 71 100mm mortars.

Multiple firing positions were also set up at several windows of the police station.

Everything was done in a busy but orderly fashion.

Victor had nothing but a plethora of weapons!

Explosions from Tierra del pecado (Land of Sin) rose into the sky nearby, illuminating half the island with fire, waking many islanders from their sleep.

Of course, the drug traffickers wouldn't just sit back, they pursued the Mi-8 and their group grew gradually during the chase, it seemed that the island's criminal gangs were quite "harmonious"?

But...

They looked more like ragtag militias.

Their weapons were a mixed bag, from NATO, Southeast Asia, Africa...

"Get in the truck, pursue them!"

A leader commanded his underlings to get into the pickup trucks.

One truck actually squeezed 10 people on board, though that was still far from the ultimate Indian motorcycle.

At this time, the combat level of the ordinary Mexican drug trafficker might not even compare to the Somalis. Although the Niger folks were not the best fighters, they had battlefield experience.

It wasn't until President Calderon declared the war on drugs in 2006 that Mexican drug traffickers gradually became more formal in all respects.

The Mi-8 seemed to be intentionally baiting them into the range of the police station.

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"Set firing data! Azimuth 27-00, elevation 06-80!—Fire!"

Upon hearing the commander's order, two EDM members with mortar shells dropped the shells into the mortar, ducked their heads, and heard a faint "pop" as the shell, like it had a spring installed on its bottom, flew out!

In the dead of night, the darkness was so thick.

You couldn't even notice two mortar shells descending from above.

One of them landed cleanly in the back of a pickup truck, stunning a drug trafficker on the head as seven or eight pairs of eyes looked on.

"¡Dios mío!" (My God).

Boom!

The truck was blasted in two, and a tire spun in the air before crashing down.

The other shell landed in a more remote area, but the effective killing radius of the mortar was around 17.8 meters, wiping out a row of drug traffickers nearby like an unstoppable force.

"Enemy attack! Find cover! Find cov—" a drug trafficker in a black mask was jolted, shouting to those around him; he couldn't even finish his sentence before a burst of machine gun bullets rained down from above, instantly blowing his head apart!

The Browning M2HB was known as the "widowmaker"; just a graze would be fatal!

Otherwise, it wouldn't have stayed active from World War II right through to the Millennium, and even the U.S. Military used it in the Gulf War.

Everyone who had been hit by it had nothing but good things to say—safe, painless, quick death.

The previously departed Mi-8 circled back around, with its 12.7mm machine gun mounted on the nose, unleashing a barrage of fire at the scrambling drug traffickers below.

A regular army would disintegrate under such a sudden attack, let alone drug traffickers.

Quite a few people panicked and ran backwards, hoping to escape the battlefield. But there were those whose heads heated up, grabbing an SMAW-D83mm rocket launcher produced by the Yanks and taking a shot at the Mi-8!

This weapon was mainly used for destroying field fortifications, urban barriers, and armored vehicles. It wasn't that it couldn't hit aerial targets—as long as it explodes, it works.

On the black market in the United States, this weapon would set you back $7000, with an export price of $4450. With a bit of grit, an ordinary person could afford it.

"Rocket launcher!" exclaimed the co-pilot observer of the Mi-8, raising his voice.

The pilot's brows twitched, "Brace yourselves!"

All the people in the cabin hurriedly fastened their seatbelts and gripped the handrails.

The pilot yanked hard on the control stick, taking the Mi-8 into a 90-degree nose up maneuver to dodge. The unsecured ammunition in the cabin fell down.

Rocket-propelled grenades whisked past the fuselage…

Watching from a distance, Kennedy Heisenberg broke out in a cold sweat; if that helicopter were to be shot down, he could already imagine his boss's expression.

"Fire suppression, the rest take aim and pick off the drug traffickers with the heavy weapons."

The crew of the Mi-8 were also terrified and didn't dare to show off; they waggled their tails and hurried away.

The Mexican drug traffickers were "clever," quick to flee when they saw they had no advantage.

If not now, then when?

The battle lasted for nearly an hour, with drug traffickers leaving behind about 90 bodies before retreating.

"Report to Mr. Victor, we've taken control of the Guadalupe Island Police Station, the drug traffickers have been routed by our forces, and we can land on the island at any time!"

…

Victor, who received the message, was still on the way.

There was nearly 1000 kilometers from Mexico to Ensenada City's port, a journey of over ten hours by car.

Fortunately, no bold thieves dared to attack the convoy on the road.

Nonsense…

With the convoy's setup, you'd need missiles, and a heavy dose at that, otherwise there'd be no chance of destroying it.

They reached the designated destination at 3 p.m. the next day.

Victor had no plans to meet the "high officials" of Dan Senada City and waste time.

At the port, Best had already scheduled a civilian cargo ship—not a company from within Mexico, but a Norwegian maritime cargo company, all to prevent leaks of information.

The civilian ship was large enough to fit the convoy.

"No, no, no! You said you were loading agricultural by-products, right?" The captain, a Norwegian, shook his head vigorously to stop the convoy from boarding.

"These are Mexico's unique agricultural by-products." Casare, running out of patience, patted the armored vehicle and glared, "I'll give you an extra 500 US dollars, all for you, you don't even have to turn it in to your company."

The captain wanted to speak, but Casare's threatening look made it clear, "Or I can have an armored vehicle crush you, buddy. Pick a lane."

Did Mexicans have to be so brutal?

The captain swallowed hard, feeling like the other party might do as they said, and shrank back, "So... cash then?"

Without saying much more, Casare simply took out the money and handed it over, "If you cause any more trouble for me, I'm throwing you into the sea to feed the fish!"

Actually, the sudden appearance of the convoy also frightened the port's security personnel, but they weren't foolish enough to rush up and start a fight; they quickly made calls to their superiors.

Yet many bureaucrats were in cahoots with the drug lords. The battle that had taken place in the early hours of the morning had already been reported from Guadalupe Island, leaving nearly all the onlookers in shock.

Helicopters?

Mortars?

And heavy machine guns?

Are you the police? Or the army?

If Victor actually managed to land, perhaps Guadalupe Island would indeed be subdued, which would not suit the interests shared between them and the drug lords. Consequently, some of them directly dispatched the military to intercept the convoy.

But by the time they arrived, they could only lament their helplessness.

They had no ships...

Amidst the grieving cries of the corrupt officials, a 5th-size assault boat sprinted from the port toward the civilian ship.

Brazenly displayed on it was the name of the Tijuana Group.

"They struck! They've made their move!" the corrupt officials shouted excitedly.

…

"Negotiate?" Victor frowned, puzzled, "You mean the drug trafficker wants to negotiate?"

...