Chapter 4 Full of Malice!

Brothers who often bomb people know that grenades are divided into defensive and offensive types, but in fact, it's all bullshit. You throw it out, no matter what type it is, all of them will die!

An anti-1 (F-1) grenade is stuffed with 60g of TNT. Damn it, even if a cuckold comes, it will be blown into a Japanese devil.

Although it is a product of World War II, your grandfather is still your grandfather.

Victor crouched down, approached the edge of the RV, raised his head to look at the half-open window, pulled the safety ring, and threw it in with his backhand. It fell to the ground with a crisp sound. Haggis and Mil Baird inside turned their heads to see.

An oval-shaped thing similar to feces was rolling on the ground.

Mil Baird, who had rich experience in being beaten, reacted quickly. He hugged his head and curled up to the side with his butt sticking out.

Reducing the area of ​​injury can increase the survival rate.

Anyone who has used a grenade knows that it is unlikely to kill someone directly. It is not impossible, but the greatest damage comes from the fragments inside, which can directly cut through a person's internal organs.

There is basically no hope of saving him.

Even Jesus would have to go to the hospital.

But...

To be on the safe side, Victor waited for a while after throwing one grenade in before throwing another one in!

Double insurance.

Bang!

Two streams of smoke seeped out from the window of the RV. The explosion was very dull, but it was still very loud in the night. Casare, who was having sex with a woman, was so scared that he stood up suddenly, his balls shrank, and he grabbed his clothes in panic and ran out of the tent like an elephant.

All around were the same old prostitutes.

Shameless, all naked.

They looked at each other with fear in their eyes.

"What's going on? Why is there an explosion?"

"How should I know? I'm fighting hard, and the explosion scared me too. Don't stay here, disperse quickly."

Some people ran away anxiously, and some even didn't pay for prostitution.

As experienced Mexicans, they understand that you must not be curious. If you take a look out of curiosity, your whole family will have to eat the feast.

Casare, on the other hand, looked at the corner with his mouth half open, as if...

Victor just went there!

...

Victor was brave. After he lost the grenade, he didn't run away directly. He could hear the groans and screams from inside when he stood at the door.

He kicked open the flattened car door and got in. He saw Haggis lying on the ground and rolling, bleeding all over. On the other side, Mil was unlucky. He covered his neck and opened his eyes wide. He had already died.

Seeing the figure, Haggis subconsciously reached out for help, and a sound like a hair dryer came out of his throat, "Help! Help! (Save me!)"

"Don't you know, you should say please, man?"

Haggis heard the familiar voice and looked at the gradually clear face, and he was excited, breathing rapidly, and his chest was heaving.

"Don't worry, don't worry."

Victor squatted down, looked at the other party, and said with a smile, "Are you sad? It's okay, I'll help you."

As he said that, he looked around and saw the fire extinguisher rolling on the ground. He picked it up, looked at Haggis, waved his hand, as if saying goodbye, and then smashed it hard on his head.

Which is harder, the bones or the fire extinguisher?

Obviously, the latter won.

After a few hard hits, the brain came out. Looking at the unrecognizable Haggis, Victor threw the fire extinguisher, lit a cigarette for himself, and then stuffed it into the other's smashed mouth.

But this mouth was smashed, how could it hold a cigarette?

Victor got angry and smashed his head again with a fire extinguisher.

"Fuck you, you didn't even give me the face to smoke a cigarette, you bastard."

After cursing, he ran away. He could already hear someone coming not far away, noisy footsteps.

It was so dark at night. If you just go in, it would be easy to run as long as you are not caught on the spot.

After Victor ran for two or three minutes, a dozen armed men with weapons rushed to the scene. Judging from the tattoos on their arms, they were obviously from the same organization.

The leader was a bald man with a scar between his eyebrows. Looking at the corpse on the ground, his face was dark and gloomy. Someone was making trouble on the territory he was protecting. This fucking... life is so boring!

"Boss, something happened. This person seems to be Mil Baird." A younger brother shouted.

The bald man was startled, as if he thought of something. He walked over in a hurry. When he saw the familiar face on the ground, his expression suddenly looked like he was constipated.

Mill Baird was too familiar with this. The territory of Mexico City originally belonged to the Guajarajara Cartel.

But because 1,000 hectares of plantations were destroyed, Quintero, one of the three giants, could not swallow this breath. According to the time, Gallardo had already negotiated a deal with Pablo in Colombia, and this money could be earned back.

But on February 7, 1985, Quintero instructed his subordinates to kidnap DEA agent Camarena in public.

The autopsy showed that he was tortured for 30 hours and was constantly given adrenaline during the abuse to keep him awake.

Camarena's miserable condition prompted the DEA to launch the largest-scale murder investigation.

Seeing that the matter had become serious, Quintero ran away with his girlfriend Sara, whose father was the Minister of Education of Mexico.

Education went into Pi Yanzi.

Godfather Gallardo abandoned Quintero and Don Neto to the authorities, and continued to lead the group to satisfy the officials' share.

Quintero was sentenced to a maximum sentence of 40 years.

But because there was no extradition clause, the Americans disagreed. In order to give an explanation to their employees, they launched a revenge operation codenamed "Legend", sending agents with bounty hunters to sneak into Mexico to kidnap six murderers involved in the murder of Camarena to the United States for trial, and put pressure on the Mexican authorities.

Then Gallardo was abandoned by his umbrella, Defense Minister Varela, and in 1989, the Guadalajara Group collapsed.

And during this gap, Mexico City certainly would not be quiet.

Sinaloa led by Palma and the Gulf Group commanded by the Abrego family fought.

Among them, many cruel, insidious and cunning people appeared, and Mill Baird, nicknamed "Family Stallion", performed particularly well.

He led the Gulf Group gunmen to attack the masquerade of Guzman's younger brother, the second-in-command of Sinaloa, killing 17 people.

Among them were Guzman's brother's lover and four illegitimate children.

His reputation was so great!

The Sinaloa Cartel offered a reward of 150,000 pesos for his life!

Such a popular guy died here. It must be said that life is unpredictable.

But the bald man found another business opportunity. He looked at the body of Mil Baird with green eyes.

150,000 pesos!

The most important thing is to be on the list of Sinaloa's thighs. Even if he will face the revenge of the Gulf Group and the Baird family, but is life and death so important when he is out there?

Make money, make money, make money!

The timid ones have either died on the street or immigrated long ago.

"Who is this person?" The bald man pointed at Haggis's body and asked.

The younger brother looked left and right and shook his head, "I can't recognize it. It's been beaten like this."

"Don't waste it. Take them together. We will go to the Sinaloa Cartel tonight."

The younger brothers looked at each other and hesitated.

The bald man was careful and understood what they were thinking. "Today we are watching the scene. Mil Baird died here. Do you think we will be thrown out to vent our anger?"

"This..."

"Boss Fraden shouldn't." A younger brother whispered, but in the end even he shut up.

The survival rule of small Mexican communities is always to rely on the big cartel. If you have a backer, it's okay. If you don't have a backer?

You are consumables and cannon fodder.

"Okay, don't hesitate. If you want to leave, come with me. The bounty for Mil Baird will be shared by everyone. If you don't want to, we will go our separate ways."

The bald man frowned and said to the younger brothers in front of him.

In the end, all the younger brothers followed him. Obviously, the bounty of pesos is more attractive than the boss.

The people watching the scene have all run away. Who would come to take a look for no reason?

It's none of your business.

Death is too common.

…

Victor walked towards the prison in the dark. The dormitory was inside. He met many colleagues on the way. They were all cursing. They just felt that they were not having a good time tonight.

When he passed the floating bridge, he didn't watch his feet and tripped. He looked down and squinted his eyes. He didn't know when a stone was placed here.

"Victor."

In the dark night, a soft shout made Victor tense all over. He frowned and saw the figure that appeared, and then he breathed a sigh of relief, "Casare, don't you know that hiding in the night can easily scare people to death?"

The fat man walked closer and looked him up and down, "Are you okay?"

This confusing question made Victor startled and his heart pounded, but he quickly calmed down and looked at him, "Are you talking about the explosion just now? I was scared to death. I was just about to find a place to pee, and I heard the explosion and hid quickly. Are you okay, man? I heard that being frightened during exercise can easily cause impotence."

He smiled and took the other's brother. Casare took a step back, "I'm fine." He said, turning his back, "I'm glad you're okay."

But his eyes condensed slightly, and he smelled blood on Victor.

Absolutely, it's not as simple as he said.

Casare is not an idiot. There is no real idiot in this world. It's just that people look at the world from different perspectives.

Don't think you are too smart.

Victor was behind him, squinting his eyes. His intuition told him that Casare had already suspected him.

His intuition was always accurate.

Looking at the back of Casare's head, he now had an impulse to go up and cut his head.

Murdering a colleague, and a member of a criminal family, even if there was a little suspicion, those damn drug dealers would kill him.

Victor was not a person who liked to leave his fate to others.

Casare walked in front and suddenly felt a little pain in the back of his head.

It was like someone was staring at him with malice.

In the end.

Victor still didn't do it. After all, the guards on the high wall could already see the prison gate.