Mexican drug dealers were more efficient than the government.
After all, Victor had truly seriously damaged their interests.
Benjamin was the most enthusiastic among them.
Working tirelessly in the front and back.
Do you think he was really avenging his brothers and sisters?
Don't be naive...
It was nothing more than for his own interests.
Now that he had finally pulled in a bunch of "fools," kill Victor and protect the Tijuana cartel's base - it couldn't be lost.
Just as he was coordinating cargo ships, a subordinate handed him a phone. "Boss, Mr. Abrego from the Gulf cartel."
Benjamin raised an eyebrow, took the phone, and after listening to just a few sentences, his expression instantly changed!
Two words burst from his mouth: "Hijo de puta! (Son of a bitch!)"
...
Gulf cartel headquarters, Matamoros!
The Abrego family cemetery was here.
But Juan Nepomuceno wasn't buried yet. Abrego vowed to use Victor's head to honor his uncle's spirit!
At this moment in the mansion.
Abrego looked grimly through the glass at the scene in the single room inside. A man was tied to a chair, his body showing no good flesh, even with bones protruding. A drug dealer pressed the button in front of him.
Instantly the man in the chair began convulsing all over.
Screams filled the air.
"Kill me! Kill me!" the man roared.
Abrego never expected that there were actually people among the drug dealers who would serve as informants for the police!
Did they think the Mexican drug cartels were going to collapse?
Eating from the inside while crawling outside!
"What about his wife and children?"
El Mencho beside him said: "Buried in cement blocks."
"Hang him on the bridge in Matamoros. I want people to understand the consequences of betraying the Gulf cartel." Abrego gritted his teeth.
"Boss, I think our plan should be delayed. Given Victor's cunning, he's already prepared. If we go now, we'll definitely increase casualties."
Abrego squinted, remembering what his uncle used to tell him: "Stay calm and keep your brain clear, don't let anger ruin your reason."
He took a deep breath but shook his head. "This was decided by the five major drug organizations together. If we break the agreement, they'll attack us together, and our losses will be even greater."
El Mencho said glumly, "Breaking agreements isn't a serious crime in Mexico, death is. Given Guadalupe Island's terrain plus the police station's firepower, our chances of charging up there are zero!"
He coldly analyzed the situation for his boss.
What moral bottom lines do drug dealers talk about?
You betray me, I betray you - it's common. As long as the interests are big enough, even one's own mother can have a price tag.
Rules?
Don't be naive. If Mexico really had rules, would it be this rotten?
"We can instigate a firefight with Tamaulipas state police. Then we tell the others we can't get away, and when Benjamin takes people away from Tijuana, we strike first and occupy his territory."
"By then, we can control the Baja California region. Through maritime and air transport, our profits can double!"
Abrego's heart suddenly tightened. He looked up at El Mencho. This son-in-law of the Millennium cartel had an unusually calm expression, as if he were discussing something ordinary.
From Abrego's perspective, this guy could definitely accomplish things!
Cunning, ruthless, vicious, and with the rare brains that drug dealers lacked.
"What you say makes sense." After pondering for a moment, Abrego slowly nodded. "But not going doesn't look right. Pick some unpleasant ones to go with Benjamin to the island."
He also wanted to use this opportunity to eliminate some subordinates who were "disrespectful" to him.
"I'll leave instigating the firefight with Tamaulipas to you. Keep it at an appropriate level." Abrego paused. "After this is settled, I'll arrange for you to handle the business in Jalisco state."
El Mencho was delighted inside, but long years of living under others' roofs had taught him to control his emotions, and he had his own way of handling people and situations.
He had fucking wanted to go solo for a long time.
But unfortunately, after his father-in-law's Millennium cartel was destroyed by the Michoacán Family, he had no capital left and could only rely on Abrego. By being ruthless and speaking little, he quickly caught his attention.
Now it was finally his turn!
Jalisco state - that place wasn't bad either!
El Mencho had a dream...
"To become the biggest drug dealer in Mexico and even Latin America!"
...
After cursing, Benjamin forcefully threw his phone away.
"That bastard from Matamoros, getting into conflict with state police at this time - what's in his head? Shit?"
The subordinate looked at him, then quickly lowered his head.
You didn't curse at him during the phone call, now you're cursing him when he can't hear.
"Forget about him, proceed according to plan. After we kill Victor, we'll deal with him."
February 7, 1990.
Clear skies.
No... wait, it started raining in the evening.
Benjamin arranged eight RoRo ships - roll-on/roll-off ships.
These were transport vessels where tractor-trailers carrying containers or other cargo, or wheeled pallets, could directly enter and exit cargo holds for loading and unloading.
The space below was huge, basically able to fit several tanks.
These things were mostly the "main force" of scenic areas.
Around 9 PM.
From six docks in Baja California other than Ensenada, RoRo ships charged through breaking waves. On the decks were mounted 20mm G1-2s, commonly known as "Gatling" 6-barrel rotary cannons!
Old equipment produced by South Africa's Armscor company.
Bought from the American black market.
Capable of suppressing naval vessels at sea and fire points on the island.
Did you think drug dealers were really coming "empty-handed" now?
Benjamin had put out everything he had, spending nearly $60 million to purchase large quantities of weapons and equipment. He also modified the upper half of six RoRo ships, parking two SA341 "Gazelle" helicopters purchased from France and four Bell 214s!
And hired professional pilots.
He found these connections through France.
No one should think drug dealers only sell to America, right?
Anyone who could become a drug cartel had fucking extensive connections!
Moreover, Benjamin knew that the combat quality of drug dealers was really pitiful. You could have them bully the old, weak, sick, and disabled, but wanting them to fight Victor, who had rich combat experience, was still lacking.
He spent $10 million to find a 170-person mercenary squad - veterans active on African battlefields.
If you can't win, call for help - I have money!
Drug dealers really had nothing except money. Pablo, when fleeing later, was even afraid his wife and children would be cold, so he used money for warmth, burning $2 million in one night.
Really, many companies didn't have as much cash flow as them.
It was truly a desperate investment!
In the drug dealers' view, problems that could be solved with money weren't problems. For those like Victor that couldn't be solved, give money and find others to solve them!
This trick of hiring foreign aid would appear in a few years, when Mexican drug dealers transitioned from traditional organizations to more violent ones. At that time, because of the Soviet collapse, many people were homeless, and they helped drug dealers train gunmen and directly participate in conflicts.
"Boss, still 10 nautical miles from Guadalupe Island! (18.52 kilometers)" came the drug dealer's report through the radio.
"Proceed according to plan!"
"Understood."
After Benjamin gave the order, the drug dealers began moving. Assault boats were quickly inflated and dropped from the ships.
Drug dealers or mercenaries holding weapons climbed down and sat in the assault boats, charging toward Guadalupe Island!
Under the moonlight...
You could see densely packed roughly a hundred assault boats. Even if each seated 4 people, that was nearly 500 people.
And 6 helicopters in the air also took advantage of the night for low-altitude flight, first bombing out a range for the landing forces, and directly killing any resistance they encountered.
This was Benjamin's tactic.
He didn't believe it.
If Victor could defend against this, then fine - do area coverage!
Cover the entire ocean.
Benjamin felt suddenly heroic.
"Tonight I'm going to celebrate my birthday on Guadalupe Island!"
Brother, you shouldn't say such things - you can't handle it. The last person who said this has been dead for decades and people still drag him out to whip his corpse.
People, the most taboo thing is opening champagne at halftime.
And having flags stuck all over your back.
(End of Chapter)
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