Chapter 198 Kill Victor!

July 27, 1990.

02:27 in the morning!

Victor stood in front of the cabin door of an Airbus A300, patted the shoulders of every police officer who came up, and helped them to straighten the wrinkles on their uniforms.

When it came to Kennedy, he hugged him.

"I'm waiting for the news of your triumphant return in Tijuana!"

"Loyalty!"

Kennedy saluted and boarded the plane. The pilot in charge was the air policeman that Victor had exchanged before. He wore headphones and signaled the crew to close the cabin door.

Then...

Start taxiing!

In the cockpit of a C-130 not far away, two pilots sent by the US military were eating instant noodles, and of course, they also added a sausage, which was a midnight snack.

They were eating happily.

Then they saw...

The action team actually boarded a passenger plane, and then soared directly into the night sky.

"Hey~ What's going on? What about us?"

The two pilots looked at each other, a little confused. This is not according to the routine. Did you get on the wrong plane?

Just when the two were still stunned.

Zolf Sherman rushed up with a dozen police officers, very polite, really, with a smile on his face.

"Gentlemen, maybe I need to accompany you on this flight."

Victor stood at the airport, watching the C-130 rushing into the sky, and turned his head, "Let's go back!"

"Boss, where are you going?" Casare asked hurriedly.

"Go back to sleep!"

This can't be a problem for Fatty Ka, boss, you are not worried at all.

...

Colombia. Santa Fe Bogota.

At three or four in the morning.

Residents in the main urban area heard the roar of cars and motorcycles. When they got up in the morning, they were all ready to go downstairs to work, and found that the main roads were blocked!

Those people used pickup trucks...

There were machine guns on them, and the drug dealers sat in the back pockets with their companions, laughing and smoking, but they didn't care about the bicycle riders.

But if you drive a car.

Just one word: "Get lost!"

Drug dealers can carry out... martial law? Drug control?

Seven police cars roared over.

A police superintendent got out of the car, square and upright, looking very righteous. He walked over, "Falcao, what are you doing? Do you want to rebel in Medellin?"

The drug dealer sitting in the back pocket with a cockscomb on his head, his arms were all tattooed, messy, and he held a cigarette between his fingers. He turned his head to look at him, and then spit.

"We are in charge of this place!"

"Today, the Medellin Group allows you to go off work."

The police superintendent's face turned green with anger, "Get out! Get out of the way!"

Falcao narrowed his eyes, stood up directly, and pulled the machine gun on the top of the pickup truck, "If you want bullets, let me say it again, get out!"

"Today, the bosses are having a meeting. After the meeting, Santa Fe Bogotá will naturally still be yours."

Seeing him pull the bolt.

The police officers who followed him suddenly tightened their faces, and their feet were facing backwards. As long as they saw something wrong, they would run!

But in fact, although the Colombian military and police also have the phenomenon of being bought, compared with Mexico, they also have a lot of righteous people.

Especially after Pablo unscrupulously challenged the dignity of the country, and even sent people to blow up passenger planes, without any bottom line, if he was not caught, where would the face of the country be?

But this idea is good, but you can't beat him!

Colombian military police were beaten by Medellin's armed forces, and most importantly, they had a good relationship with several anti-government armed forces. They said in more than one place that if anyone dared to touch Pablo, then let the "April 19" incident happen again! I can only say that they were too weak. The Latin American world still has to look at the three heroes of North America! If this were put in Mexico now. You are blocking the road? All right! Victor will directly bomb you, and then press your ashes under the road, so that you will block the road for the rest of your life. The cockscomb took out a stack of banknotes tied with ropes from the car pocket! It was really tied, just like it was used to tie up hairy crabs, and threw it directly in front of the superintendent, waving his hand impatiently and said, "Can you get out? Do you still need me to send you home?" "Officer!" Arrogant and domineering. Being a gangster to this extent, this life... is worth it. Looking at the money on the ground, the superintendent clenched his fists. "Sir, shall we retreat?" A deputy beside him suddenly spoke up, and the former turned his head to look at him.

The deputy's eyes flickered.

"Brothers, we need to make a fortune."

The superintendent was shocked and looked at the other police officers. They put their guns back into their holsters, and a few troublemakers looked at them with unfriendly eyes.

His shirt was soaked in an instant.

NMD!

"Retreat!"

Finally, he could only hold his nose and shout, and got into the car with a dark face. The deputy went up to hold the money, and smiled and nodded at Falcao with cockscomb hair.

Seeing them "fleeing in panic", the drug dealers laughed unscrupulously, and continued to sit together, talking about women and the meeting that was about to start.

"Boss, what kind of meeting are the big guys going to have?"

"Yes, boss, just tell us."

Falcao said proudly, "Okay, we will know it all later anyway. You know the Mexican drug dealers? What Juarez, Gulf Group, Sinaloa."

The younger brothers nodded vigorously.

"There's a policeman over there, and it's said he's very fierce. He beat the Mexican drug dealers so hard that they had to run to Colombia for help. Our boss is kind-hearted, so of course he's willing to help. He also proposed to form an association and bring in 17 drug cartels and warlords."

"Wow! 17!"

Falcao looked at his brothers' surprised expressions and nodded with a smile, "Mexicans are really cowardly. Isn't he just a little policeman? I've also seen it on the news. His firepower is just so-so, not as strong as ours. I think we have to take action at that time to kill that guy called Victor."

"Yes! Kill the policeman! Hahaha." A group of younger brothers raised their hands and shouted.

Brother...

The news is the most deceptive.

Your boss didn't tell you how hard it is to beat Victor!

This is just a microcosm of the street.

The more rampant ones directly blocked the door of the local police station with cars, just lying there.

Anxious calls were made directly to the top.

In order to prevent the conflict from escalating, the military and police began to confront the drug dealers on the streets, and the air was filled with gunpowder.

But no one dared to fire the first shot.

Colombian Security Minister Carlos Yelas Restrepo called Pablo's private phone directly.

He wanted to question the other party angrily.

But...

They hung up on him directly!

"Keep calling!"

Finally, after calling three or four times, someone answered the phone, and Mr. Carlos Yelas Restrepo was about to speak.

Then he heard the other party say.

"Sorry, Mr. Pablo is busy, please call again later."

Then...

Hang up again.

Beep beep beep...

"CNMD! Pablo!" Even Restrepo, who was known for his elegance and gentlemanliness, couldn't stand it. He cursed and angrily smashed his phone to the ground.

The secretary who heard the noise outside shrank his head and didn't dare to go in.

After calming down, Restrepo, the Minister of Security, could only sit in his chair helplessly.

He...

really didn't have the guts to give the order to attack.

In fact, looking at the love and hatred between Pablo and the Colombian government, it can be clearly understood that every time they want to destroy each other, there is always the United States around, without the support of the godfather.

Colombia will not take action easily.

Once it takes action...

it will cry.

…

8:20 in the morning.

A convoy of dozens of luxury cars drove into the new judicial building, and dozens of bodyguards came down from above and opened the car doors in unison.

Pablo, Guzman, Abrego and other drug dealers from the two countries and many other representatives attending the meeting got out of the car.

The reporters who had been waiting for a long time rushed over at once.

"Mr. Pablo! I heard there is a hot news today, what is it?"

"Mr. Pablo, what do you think about the Colombian government's announcement that it will sign an extradition agreement with the United States?"

Pablo, with a fluffy lion head, was wearing a white suit and a flower on his chest. He looked ruddy and was in a very good mood looking at the dozens of news media below. He raised his hand and signaled them to be quiet.

After everyone shut up, he smiled and said.

"I will answer the questions one by one later. Let me say one thing first."

"I am very happy to announce it to you here!"

"The North American Drug Association, jointly led by Mexico's Sinaloa, Juarez, and Gulf Groups and Colombia's Medellin and Cali Groups, has been officially established!"

The reporters below were stunned.

But then the sound of snapping photos rang non-stop.

There was also excitement on their faces, of course, this was for the hot news.

When they came, they had a hunch that a big drug lord would hold a press conference to announce something big, and it was the most controversial Pablo who called them.

North American Drug Association!

Mexico + Colombia?

They are planning to dominate Latin America.

"I have never seen such an arrogant person in my life." A new reporter, who was obviously a rookie, couldn't help but say this, which was like an exclamation.

But Pablo had good ears and heard it immediately. He pointed at him and said, "Hey! You saw it today!"

"I am not arrogant, this is strength. The purpose of our association is to control the market, control prices, and control illegal sales!"

"From now on, any sales without our permission will be illegal!"

Pablo pointed at the new reporter, "Remember what I said. In 1991, which is next year, the North American Drug Association will provide 15,000 tons of drugs to the United States. American drug addicts are blessed!"

15,000 tons!

Americans have to smoke with all their might to consume it all.

Smoke more.

"Within five years, the North American Drug Association will provide more than 100,000 tons of drugs to the world. Within ten years, our profits will exceed the total of the world's top 500 companies!"

"Gentlemen, you will witness history."

Applause!

The whole hall was filled with applause.

"You should go up." Abrego of the Gulf Group looked at Pablo, who was in high spirits, and said to Guzman next to him.

"Let him do the things that are in the limelight. We just need to be responsible for making money."

He doesn't want to be the first to stand out.

Too much limelight is easy to get into trouble.

Only by keeping a low profile can you achieve great things!

Abrego hummed a few words and didn't comment, but looking at Pablo's look, his eyes were still a little jealous.

This will definitely be in the newspaper!

In addition to Colombia, the whole of Latin America, and even the whole world will be shocked by this news!

An intruder holding drugs appeared on the makeshift team.

He said to everyone, "Gentlemen! Please take drugs!"

The name Pablo...

It is destined to become history. In the future, when talking about the history of drug trafficking in the world, he will be indispensable.

Abrego, I also want to stand on it! !

...