Chapter 176 Do You Want a 762 or 12 Cone?

Chapter 176 Do you want a 7.62 or 12 cone?

US-Mexico border.

A small town called Crested Butte below San Diego, with a total population of about 1,700 people.

It is only about 600 meters away from the nearest border!

You can even see a lot of Mexican people selling things across the fence.

Americans wearing new clothes over there, hungry Mexicans waiting to be fed by kind people over here, a barbed wire fence divides humans into two types.

As for some Run people who want to run over, Victor adheres to the principle of... out of sight, out of mind. If you want to go over, just go over, as long as the US border police can let you go.

Just like Castro's "Marle smuggling incident".

But don't sell drugs!

If you sell drugs, the patrol here will shoot you!

"Hey, Ross, try it, this is the bread my mother made for me, I left you a piece." An American white boy leaned against the wire fence and handed over the food in his hand.

"Little Lyle, you can't reach your hand over there, it's illegal."

A fat American policeman came over with a smile and hit his hand with a baton, "If you reach over here, Victor on the opposite side will chop your hand off!"

The white child's face changed in fear.

"Hey! You fat pig, Mr. Victor won't bully children." The Mexican child on the opposite side was wild, he raised his middle finger to the policeman.

The angry American policeman wanted to beat him.

"Make way, make way~"

At this time, a horn sounded, and everyone looked in the direction of the sound, and saw more than a dozen policemen pressing more than 20 drug dealers to walk to the open space.

Those people were wearing hoods and were pressed to the ground and trembling.

"Ladies and gentlemen, there will be a permanent game in the border area of ​​Baja California. Drug dealers will be hanged on 1, 3, and 5 every week. On 2, 4, and 6, they will be publicly executed by hammering. On Sundays, it will be random. Today, 22 drug dealers will be executed by hammering to warn potential drug dealers!"

"Victor, I'm watching you!"

A police officer with the rank of police sergeant shouted loudly.

"Execution!"

Then a sturdy police officer was seen holding a hammer head, standing behind a drug dealer, swinging the hammer and smashing it hard. That head...tsk tsk tsk, it was even more watery than a runny nose.

The warm blood splashed on the drug dealer next to him, scaring him to shiver.

But the next second, his head was also smashed.

On the border, the small vendors and residents on both sides were all unusually quiet.

"Don't look, go home quickly." The American police also felt a little nauseous, and drove away the residents around. Looking at the corpses of drug dealers on the ground, he muttered, "Savage tyrant!"

"Hey! Your blood can't flow here, otherwise it will be illegal." He shouted at the top of his voice.

The Mexican police swept the blood back with a broom.

This is actually one of Victor's means of revenge.

Aren't you against my drug prohibition?

I will kill you every day in front of you.

Of course, this is just a small trick. If you CIA drag it to my head, I won't do it. I, Victor, can't swallow this breath!

You said that I drove a self-destructing truck to Langley to blow up your headquarters. To be honest, Victor is a little scared. If it really blows up, then you will be greeted by missiles.

After all, that is the homeland.

But I will get your North American branch!

July 21, 1990.

Costa Rica. San Jose!

It borders Canada to the north, the Gulf of Mexico to the south, the Pacific Ocean to the west, and the Atlantic Ocean to the east. It holds back the Caribbean Sea. This country has no police or army, and the entire defense is handled by the Eagle Sauce.

Many branches of American institutions in North America are set up here.

Flutter~

The pigeons in the central square are waving their wings and circling in the sky.

Mario Hamilton, a senior assistant of the CIA in North America, is driving a convertible with his lover to bask in the sun, and chatting about some fancy boudoir secrets.

"Do you want ice cream?"

The lover smiled and nodded, "Of course."

Hamilton opened the car door and walked towards the ice cream truck, saying to the waiter wearing a clown hat, "Two cones."

"Do you want 7.62? Or 12?" The clown asked.

Hamilton was startled. Is there still this type of cone now? But suddenly he felt something was wrong. Just as he was about to speak, he saw the clown take out a shotgun and point it at his head, "Sorry, eat tofu pudding!"

Pull down the cover.

Pull the trigger.

Bang!

Half of his head exploded, and his body paused, falling heavily to the ground.

CIA North American senior assistant died!

"Ahhhh!!!"

The square was full of screams and people fleeing in panic. The clown turned over the ice cream truck with a shotgun, pointed at the frightened mistress and shouted, "Madam, please get off the car!"

The mistress was so scared that her hands and feet were numb, her pupils were dilated, and her hands were shaking.

The clown was obviously very irritable. Seeing that the other party was so hesitant, he grinned and said, "Then I'll help you."

beng!

He shot her away with one shot, opened the car door, and pulled the body down.

He opened the panel and turned out a pass. As if he had calculated the time, a silver-gray motorcycle rode over. The clown got on the car, looked at the duty personnel coming not far away, shot them, raised a middle finger, and shouted: "Long live the Sinaloa Group!"

Boom~

As soon as the accelerator was turned, the exhaust pipe roared, and the motorcycle sped away.

"There was a shooting in the central square!"

The motorcycle was weaving through the traffic, and the clown opened his mouth, and the wind blew into his mouth and made a "gurgling" sound.

The knight looked through the reflector and yelled, "Jeff Bennett, what are you doing!"

"I'm drinking the northwest wind! This way I won't go hungry." The clown shouted loudly.

Damn it!

There are just no normal people in Mexico International News.

After riding the motorcycle for about seven or eight minutes, we arrived at "Michelles Street", a gathering place for foreign offices in San Jose. When we got into the alley, we saw a white van.

The clown threw the pass in with his backhand and gave a Roman salute, "Hi!"

"MD, crazy." The driver cursed, and the co-pilot companion next to him shrugged, "Who is a normal person whose nickname is the Joker."

"Gentlemen!"

"It's our turn."

"What the minister wants is to rush in and kill the CIA people on sight!"

"Boss, what if you don't know if the other party is from the CIA?" someone from behind asked.

The captain of the co-pilot was stunned and turned around, "Idiot! Then let them take off their pants and count their growth rings!"

Where do you count the growth rings?

The scolded team member shrank his head.

"We are the Gunners of Sinaloa now, remember, we work for Guzman!"

"Yes, sir!"

It says on the side of the van: Decoration Company, heading towards the North American CIA branch building. There are still sentries standing at the door, but they are relaxed.

This is North America, Eagle Sauce’s territory, who would come here to cause trouble?

Even the KGB is not looking for trouble. Now the internal problems are very serious. They don't have much time to find trouble. The main point of conflict between the two sides is still in the Middle East.

So, when I saw a strange vehicle approaching, I just came over and knocked on the driver's window to ask.

"Sir, we work for a cleaning company and help clean up the garbage. This is the pass given to us." The driver smiled and took out the ID card given by the clown and handed it over.

The sentry glanced at the six or seven men sitting behind them, all wearing black work clothes that did not show dirt. He glanced at the steel stamp on the ID, and waved for them to come in.

The security of Americans...how to put it?

If you flew to the United States in the 1980s and 1990s, your belongings would not even be checked, especially for women, or women who were wearing sexy clothes.

Finally, the security is very strict, so it will be after the millennium, when... there will be more flying people in the sky.

"You came in so easily?" The team members behind also said in disbelief.

Americans are so proud!

"Follow the plan and put more bombs in the CIA toilets."

The vehicle drove into the office area and stopped under the building. A group of people got out of the vehicle, carrying various tools and ran towards the CIA office building.

"Hey~ what do you do?"

Just as they were about to go upstairs, a male staff member came out of the room and called to them.

"We're the ones cleaning."

"I do not know how?"

The captain winked at the two team members, and they leaned over and said, "How is that possible? Isn't this your contract?"

One person covered his mouth and stabbed him hard in the neck. Another person knelt down and wiped the blood stains off the floor, then pulled the body close to the office and stuffed it into a file cabinet.

"Come downstairs in three minutes and take action!"

They acted in groups of two, one on each floor, knocked open the office room, took out the silenced pistol placed in the barrel, and shot them to death quickly and accurately.

But the action cannot be said to be smooth sailing.

Bang bang bang!

The sound of bullets suddenly rang out, accompanied by a scream, "Killing! Killing!"

The captain who was installing a bomb in the toilet cursed, looked at his watch, and walked out. He saw four or five people crowded in the corridor, who looked like ordinary CIA employees.

He drew his gun and started shooting. Several employees fell to the ground, and he shot again when he got up.

"Evacuate! Evacuate!" A companion shouted from the stairs in the corridor.

A group of people roared downstairs in a hurry, and at the same time, the alarm in the entire building suddenly sounded.

The military police outside heard the sound and ran over quickly. They happened to see the "cleaner" coming out, and the two sides immediately exchanged blows.

"Get out of the way!" an agent shouted, took out the RPG from the car, and fired at the flower bed where the military police were hiding!

Phew~

Boom~

The bombed tile fragments flew everywhere, and many soldiers and policemen were blown away.

"Get in the car quickly!"

Two agents jumped into the car and started shooting at them with assault rifles.

"Bomb, blow up the bomb!"

The first officer's captain pressed the button.

Boom boom boom!

Flames burst out from both sides of the CIA building, one corner of the entire building was blown apart, and screams rang out from the building.

The van crashed through the fence blocking the road, its tires scraped a black drift line on the ground, and escaped before the pursuers arrived.

The CIA North America building was bombed! !

This news instantly shocked the entire San Jose, and then began to radiate to North America and the world.

The Costa Rican executives were so frightened that their legs were shaking.

The local TV station went to the front line, but was blocked from entering.

…

"On July 21, local time, an explosion occurred in the CIA North American building, causing hundreds of casualties. According to informed sources, the armed personnel had a clear division of labor and good combat literacy in this action, and it is not ruled out that it was done by hostile forces." A dark-skinned female reporter said to the camera with a microphone.

Puff~

Jeff Bennett, nicknamed "The Joker", opened a can of Pepsi, and the gas rushed out. He lay on the sofa and looked at the ruins of the CIA building on TV, and felt comfortable all over.

He is a formal employee of the Mexican International News Department, affiliated with the Special Operations Group, commonly known as: doing dirty work!

Dinglingling~

The landline next to him rang, he drank a sip of Coke, picked up the phone, "Hello~"

"Dude, good job, the boss thinks you're doing great."

"Then will you get a raise?" Jeff Bennett asked.

Jason Bourne on the opposite side took a deep breath. Why do subordinates have to get a raise? Can't there be other requirements?

Faith!

Drug prohibition, bastards!

"You are temporarily responsible for special operations in Colombia, Costa Rica, Panama, Nicaragua, Honduras and El Salvador, and your salary will be doubled."

Jeff Bennett's eyes lit up and he almost jumped on the sofa, "Are there any other requirements? Otherwise, the boss can't suddenly give me a promotion and a raise. He can't let me die, right?"

Fireline promotion, isn't it the death squad?

"Go to Colombia to help Ethan Hunt."

"What's wrong with him?"

Jason Bourne said after a silence, "He is very weak now, and he has been a little too hard recently."

"???"

What does this mean?

But Jason Bourne obviously didn't want to say more, so he changed the subject, "By the way, how is the follow-up of the CIA building?"

"Don't worry!"

"My exclusive news has been sent to the TV station in Costa Rica."

"Guaranteed to be explosive!"

...