Victor Carlos Vieri had been "stationed" in Ensenada for two days.
He mainly wanted to see if the Tijuana drug cartel had the "capability" to counterattack!
The gun barrels of his "Duke Victor Carlos Vieri" were still aimed at them.
But clearly...
The other side didn't have such guts.
But while the drug dealers weren't anxious, some people were getting worried.
On January 6, 1990.
The Mexican government finally sent people to "take over" Ensenada, and it was an old acquaintance.
Alejandro!
At the airport.
Victor Carlos Vieri looked at his former superior and his group descending from the plane with a face full of smiles, very proactively extending his hand, "Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Alejandro."
It had been a long time since they'd met, and the other party looked completely exhausted, with lifeless eyes and heavy dark circles, showing none of the joy of promotion and wealth.
Alejandro sighed deeply, "Victor Carlos Vieri, your situation has become serious!"
Upon hearing this, Casare's legs stiffened, and he almost had the EDM officers escort Victor Carlos Vieri away immediately.
"How serious?"
"Those old men are afraid I'll tear off their pants and tell everyone that these people actually have no dicks? That the first thing they do every morning is call the drug dealers to say good morning?"
"If they're not satisfied, they can come find me. I really enjoy reasoning with them."
Victor Carlos Vieri's words became increasingly aggressive.
He feared nothing.
"Anti-drug Pioneer," "Light of Mexico's Police Force," "Nemesis of Drug Dealers," "Emperor of Mexico" (crossed out, crossed out, this one wasn't achieved).
With his current reputation, the Mexican government wouldn't dare do anything to him. At most they'd play some petty tricks, like transferring him elsewhere or having him report for duty.
Sigh~
I, Victor Carlos Vieri, just won't go!
When I'm strong with plenty of men and horses, I'll go to Mexico City and ask whose world this really is - the drug dealers' or Victor Carlos Vieri's... the ordinary people's!
Alejandro took a deep breath, "Let's get in the car and talk." He glanced at Victor Carlos Vieri.
The other nodded and walked ahead first.
If Victor Carlos Vieri didn't move, who would dare to?
The two got into a pure red Rolls-Royce Silver Spirit, bulletproof too - war spoils seized from the drug lords.
It was said to be the vehicle of one of the seven brothers of the Tijuana drug cartel.
"This car is quite flashy." Alejandro patted the seat cushion.
Victor Carlos Vieri smiled, crossed his legs, and took out a cigar box to offer him one, "Do I still need to keep a low profile? In everyone's eyes, there's probably no one more arrogant than me in all of Mexico, right?"
That wasn't wrong.
Anti-drug efforts in Mexico!
That alone made you arrogant enough.
Alejandro took out a cigar and tapped it on his palm, "I'm here on behalf of some people to ask where your weapons came from?"
"Don't say your family runs a factory, buddy. They don't believe that story at all."
"Donated by the International Red Cross." Victor Carlos Vieri said with a straight face.
Alejandro actually laughed and nodded, "Fine, that's what I'll report back."
This actually stunned Victor Carlos Vieri, "You believe it?"
"What difference does it make whether I believe it or not? That's not important. You just need to understand that right now in Mexico you're more popular than the president. Those people who need votes can't wait to curry favor with you, and besides, would you tell the truth anyway?"
"There's no need to damage the relationship between us two over such garbage questions."
Alejandro saw things quite clearly.
It wasn't him who was unlucky and afraid.
"Didn't you say it was very serious?"
Alejandro nodded, "Some people who have dealings with drug dealers are panicking badly. You've cut off their financial sources, and the war between the Tijuana drug cartel and Juárez + Sinaloa has ended. Benjamin ceded part of his interests to them in exchange for a ceasefire, while the Gulf Cartel purchased over $20 million worth of weapons from the American black market. Their target might be you."
"How do you know?"
"Victor Carlos Vieri, Mexico's government is corrupt but not incompetent. The security departments still have their own channels."
Victor Carlos Vieri quite agreed with this statement. He pondered for a moment, then said very casually, "Then let them come to Guadalupe Island to find me. I'll wait for them on the island!"
The naval guns docked at the pier were already thirsting for action!
"What about Ensenada? What about Baja California?" Alejandro turned to look at him questioningly.
Victor Carlos Vieri's eyebrow twitched as he quietly waited for the other to continue.
"I've already applied to headquarters to establish a new security force responsible for combating crime in the Baja California region, with 300 personnel. The higher-ups haven't approved it yet, but when they do, I want you to be in charge."
Oh ho!
Victor Carlos Vieri knew it - not killing Alejandro back then was the right decision.
Look, the payback had come!
Although the Guadalupe Island Police Department could hire a large number of "police auxiliary" personnel, their scope of activity was limited after all. Without proper legitimacy, there would always be people finding fault. But if you belonged to a direct unit of the Baja California Security Department, that would be called an airdrop!
Fist of justice!
"I think setting up headquarters on Guadalupe Island would be perfect." Victor Carlos Vieri offered his opinion.
"Why are you so attached to that island? Wouldn't it be better to move to Ensenada? The Tijuana forces here have been severed by you anyway, and transportation is more convenient."
Victor Carlos Vieri just smiled at this and was unwilling to say more.
I plan to hide troops there and give those parasites a big surprise when the time comes - is that something I can say?
The convoy headed toward city hall.
Alejandro looked out the window and saw that many shop fronts actually had Victor Carlos Vieri's portrait hanging?
"It seems you're deeply loved by the people of Ensenada, more popular than the president."
Victor Carlos Vieri smiled, "The Mexican people desperately hope someone can maintain social order. After all, those who like drug dealers are in the minority. Most people hate them deeply. Who walking on the street doesn't have relatives killed by drug dealers in their family?"
"Sir, it's not that I chose Mexico, but that the Mexican people chose me." Victor Carlos Vieri put it more bluntly, "If you could eliminate the Tijuana drug cartel, I believe in the next gubernatorial election, you would definitely be the strongest candidate."
Alejandro's face lit up with a smile upon hearing this.
"With your words, I'm reassured."
He had maneuvered quite a bit to get transferred to Baja California, originally coming for Victor Carlos Vieri. What was the point of being a senior assistant in Mexico City?
When you come out to do things, you need to follow the right person.
"So where do you plan to set up office? Tijuana or Mexicali?"
"Right here in Ensenada. Until a new mayor comes down, I'm responsible for the work here, so Victor Carlos Vieri, if you need anything now, you can tell me completely."
Victor Carlos Vieri needed exactly those words!
...
That afternoon, Ensenada's television station broadcast "recruitment notices" on loop - Guadalupe Island needed a large number of technical personnel.
And they would be incorporated into the local government departments.
Minimum salary no less than $2,000, and if you were high-level talent, there was an additional $10,000 subsidy.
If you had children, there was an annual "accompaniment bonus" of $2,000, with up to 50 days of annual leave!
The police department was also recruiting police auxiliary personnel externally.
Requirements: no tattoos, no criminal record for parents or individual, height no less than 165cm.
Finding someone in Mexico with parents who had no criminal record might be a bit difficult, but Victor Carlos Vieri wanted exactly this minority, otherwise the police department would be a mess later.
The need for background checks became apparent.
And to stimulate young people, even the salaries were posted.
"Probationary Officer: $500 per month."
"Police Officer: $600 per month."
"Police Sergeant: $1,200 per month, enjoying regular police welfare benefits."
Currently there were three levels total, but this was already enough to properly organize the "bloated" ranks.
Otherwise, when going out on patrol later, with so many auxiliary police, who would they listen to?
Once these salaries were announced, the registration sites were instantly packed.
You have to know that Ensenada had a permanent population of nearly 400,000, and there were always some highly educated people.
Even people from several nearby cities came over.
At the dock, you could see boats transporting ordinary citizens to Guadalupe Island, as they gazed into the distance, hoping the seagulls could bring them new hope.
(End of Chapter)
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