Chapter 178 Don’t Pay Taxes? If You Don’t Pay Taxes, We’ll Kill You!

Colombia. Santa Fe Bogotá!

In a mansion in a wealthy area.

The newscaster on the TV looked serious, looked down at the script, and said to the camera, "The CIA severely refutes rumors of drug trafficking and claims that Mexican drug cartels are the enemy of mankind. Any person or organization with conscience will The circulation of drugs will not be allowed, and the CIA will fully support the anti-drug cause!”

"Director William Webster also said that the existence of the Sinaloa drug cartel is an insult to human society, and he will urge Mexico to eradicate it."

beng!

Guzman, who was sitting on the sofa, jumped up and kicked the coffee table away. The fruits and snacks on the table fell to the floor. He angrily picked up a Winchester Defender 1300 shotgun and fired at him. He fired three shots while watching the TV.

jump jump jump!

The TV was blown up directly.

The bodyguards who heard the noise outside rushed in and looked at each other in shock when they saw this scene.

"Son of a bitch!"

Guzman yelled, "Do I look like that kind of idiot?"

Go hard against the CIA?

Why don't you just cover me with a white cloth?

If I dared to blow up the CIA building in North America, why would I be selling drugs? It would be great if I went to Castro!

The most important thing is...

Who will take the initiative to admit when they have done something wrong?

Anyone with a discerning eye can see that this is slander, but he is a drug cartel and a born villain. How can he still stand up and say that he did not do it?

Guzman is a very low-key and humble person. He believes that killing people will never be publicized in a big way. As soon as this shit basin was put on his head, he almost "cryed".

Isn’t this bullying an honest person?

Arturo Beltran Leyva walked in from the outside, glanced at the living room and waved to the bodyguards. After he kicked a piece of broken glass under the TV cabinet, he faced the livid Guzman. He shouted, "Cousin..."

"Have you found out who it is?"

"Not yet...no, the other party did it very simply, without any clue at all." Arturo felt a little guilty.

Guzman took a deep breath, but he couldn't help but cursed, "Trash!"

Arturo lowered his head and said nothing.

"Sinaloa has gone to the end, and we were forced to the opposite side of the CIA." Under extreme circumstances, he became very calm.

"We can explain to the CIA and maybe give them more shares."

"It's useless. In order to regain reputation as soon as possible, the CIA will definitely throw us out as scapegoats. They don't care who sells drugs. They only care about who can make money for them. Without me, Guzman, he can support other people. Maybe, now they are thinking about how to kill me and shut me up!"

Arturo swallowed and looked at his gloomy cousin, "The only thing we can rely on now is the North American Narcotics Association, which is about to be established. As long as we have the strength in numbers, the CIA will have to consider killing us if they want to." ”

"Ha~"

Guzman sneered, "Do you really think they will be on our side? Maybe they are already thinking about how to kick us out now. They just want to fight Victor, not the CIA!"

Drug dealers are essentially businessmen. If you Sinaloa is useless, it will be useless for us to bring you in again.

"No, there may be only one person in the association who is not afraid of the CIA. We can cooperate with him."

Arturo looked confused, "Cousin, what are you talking about?"

"Pablo Escobar!"

"If you want to say who hates the CIA the most in the world, he must be on the list. As long as he nods and relies on his troops, it will be absolutely impossible for Abrego and Aguilar to kick us out!"

"Let's go find him!"

Guzman is a very direct person. If he were two steps later, he would have to collect his body!

At the same time, in a cafe in District 7 of the same city.

"The Clown" Jeff Bennett met Ethan Hunt. He came to help and had to meet his colleagues.

First glance: Wow, this guy has really dark circles under his eyes!

Second glance: Damn it, why does it look so familiar?

The third eye:

"Ethan?" Jeff Bennett shouted softly. The other person's eyes were dull and he nodded numbly.

"What's wrong with you? Are you so busy doing business in Colombia? Jason Bourne said you were too tired, so it's not like this."

"Jason Bourne? I CTMDB!"

As soon as he heard this name, Ethan Hunter gritted his teeth and wanted to kill that guy.

Blanco is indeed generous in letting himself be a duck, but you damn didn't say Blanco does it seven times a day!

Those girls can really absorb dirt while sitting on the ground.

I go back and make supplements for Ethan Hunt every night, and this guy is getting more and more playful...

Blanco is a famously wealthy woman in the male model club.

"What have you done?" Jeff Bennett looked at him intensely.

Ethan Hunt hesitated, "Drilling holes, that's not important."

He hurriedly changed the subject. Being a duck was not honorable. He knew the concept of honor and disgrace. He took out a photo and put it on the table and pushed it over. "Look for an opportunity to kill this person. For more information, you can go to the Houston Burger Shop." , they are all our people over there.”

"in a hurry?"

Ethan Hunter nodded, "He is the intelligence leader of the Cali Group. He is still alive to influence me... to make holes."

Jeff Bennett looked at Salcedo in the photo and nodded slowly, "Don't worry."

He drank the remaining half cup of coffee, then pulled off the napkin hanging on his collar, "Please pay for me, thank you, I don't have Colombian pesos." After that, he walked out of the cafe.

Ethan Hunt held his head. Is there no normal person in the Mexican International News Department?

The boss is a stingy old man, he is a duck, and then he has a clown to help him, my God!

This is even more magical than the gossip of the British royal family.

"Waiter, settle the bill!" Ethan Hunt snapped his fingers.

And the "clown" Jeff Bennett who walked out of the door stuffed himself with a chewing gum, then glanced around, and his eyes stopped at two gangsters leaning against the trash can.

He forced a smile and walked over, "Hey, gentlemen, can I ask you a question?" Then he took out a hundred-dollar bill.

The two gangsters' eyes lit up, and then looked him up and down.

Single, artist? Thin man?

"Of course, but I think we should go to the alley to talk." One of the thugs raised his eyebrows.

"No problem."

Jeff Bennett smiled harmlessly and followed the two thugs into the alley.

Flutter... bang!

After a few noises came from the alley, it became quiet.

The pedestrians outside just took a look and quickened their pace.

Jeff Bennett, holding a cigarette, stepped on the face of a thug with one foot. The other's eyes were filled with fear, while the other fell to the ground on the other side, with blood gushing from his neck, and it was unknown whether he was dead or alive.

"Sir, where is a good ice cream shop?"

...

In the meeting room in Tijuana.

Victor frowned and looked at the financial report in his hand.

"Wotfa? You told me that the entire city with a permanent population of nearly 2 million and a circulating population of 10 million per year only had an income of 700 million US dollars in the first two quarters?"

At this point, Victor laughed and threw the document heavily on the ground, "Where's my money!"

Tijuana is famous for... tourist attractions, antiques, food, horse racing, gambling and other markets, which are almost the largest in the Americas. Many Americans come here, and even because this place is very comfortable for smuggling, many smugglers will stay here for a while.

It's such a good place, you told me that it has 700 million US dollars in half a year, do you think I'm an idiot?

It's not as fast as the money earned from the anti-gangster campaign.

I'm embarrassed to say that I'm collecting taxes for making so little money!

"Can you tell me why?"

Everyone in the conference room was silent and didn't dare to say anything. They looked at each other.

There are most people here that Victor has never touched. They are all the original people, and some came after Kwaukmote came to power.

Victor rarely touches people outside the police department, but these people think they are fools!

"Mr. Jeremiah Sabbah." He looked at the head of the Tijuana Treasury Department.

"I don't know about this, sir." The other party was a middle-aged man with silver hair, who looked very elegant and shook his head hesitantly.

"You don't know?"

Victor laughed, shook his head, grabbed the ashtray and threw it over, hitting the other party's forehead directly, kicked him, grabbed his head and punched him in the face.

The other party's nose was broken!

His face was covered with blood!

"Waste!" Victor stood up and kicked him in the head, looking at the others fiercely, "Can you tell me, where is the money!"

"First... sir!" The person sitting at the back raised his hand tremblingly.

"You say."

"Many industries have no taxes, and many people will conceal their income, and many factories will not pay taxes on time, we can't deal with them."

"You mean someone is evading taxes?"

The man nodded, "There are many factories, and the tax department also turns a blind eye, many of them are foreign-funded enterprises."

"No taxes? Dare to open a factory in Tijuana?"

"Here, you have to pay taxes even if you sell Y! Do they have nuclear bombs or atomic bombs in their factories? Casare, call someone, I want to see which monster in Tijuana doesn't pay taxes!"

...