Victor sat in the car, watching the bustling construction sites outside and the infrastructure rising from the ground.
He felt quite proud inside.
He implemented an eight-hour work system on Guadalupe Island, but with three shifts rotating. The islanders got paid, and his machines never stopped running.
Simply killing two birds with one stone.
And to reduce the burden on families affected by "work injuries" and "illness deaths," Victor also planned to open an insurance company on the island, forcing everyone to pay premiums. Only 200 pesos per year, and after entering 1990, this exchange rate fluctuated.
1 USD ≈ 2.2 pesos.
The insurance company could also insure officers with accident insurance. This money would come from the police department annually, and the police department's money would come from the island's finances. Back and forth, wouldn't this money go into Victor's pocket?
Even if officers suffered casualties, this compensation would come from Victor's company, which could also boost reputation.
The island now had nearly 90,000 people, with many immigrants arriving.
It was just that they lacked money now. Otherwise, building a supermarket on the island - Americans had Walmart, here it would be called Walnima - monopolizing the local commodity market would definitely make money.
The convoy entered the residential area.
A yellow Humvee police car was parked on the roadside, with four or five half-grown children chattering and playing around two officers.
Completely unlike other places where they'd run away upon seeing police.
When the officers saw the convoy, they stood straight and saluted.
Those kids also mimicked them, looking quite adorable.
Victor opened the window and smiled, waving at them.
This was the power he fought for!
Returning to the police station, just as his left foot stepped into the lobby, he heard a broadcast from the TV: "The newly risen drug cartel in Jalisco State: Jalisco New Generation emphasizes that the Gulf Cartel's war over Baja California is meaningless!"
"It will only harm ordinary civilians. Those men who need to support their families fall in pools of blood - who will maintain these families?"
"He calls on the Gulf Cartel, Juárez Cartel, Sinaloa Cartel, and the Mexican government to cease fire and end this catastrophe."
Victor turned to look, just in time to see a flash on camera of a man wearing a dark green military uniform, beret, face covered with a mask, burly physique, with a banner hanging on the wall behind him reading: CJNG!
His voice was specially processed: "We request both sides to exercise restraint and ensure civilian safety. We're also willing to accept civilians from Baja California. We will use our power to protect Jalisco!"
Victor laughed.
But also couldn't quite laugh.
Drug dealers already knew to use media and public opinion to coat themselves with a layer of film?
Drug dealers protecting civilians?
Simply absurd. Then what were these police doing? What was he, Victor, doing? Becoming a gigolo?
However, this organization's leader really had brains.
Jalisco New Generation?
This name somehow felt familiar!
Victor had a premonition that this new organization would become his opponent.
And after 2005, the drug dealer landscape was indeed like this. Drug dealers more than once recruited new members under the banner of "defending hometown, eliminating evil!"
And they would indeed do some real things.
For example, in 2015, two outside criminals killed a police officer and raped seven women in Guadalajara. These two were finally caught by Jalisco New Generation. Both were stripped naked, faces covered in blood before the camera, surrounded by seven or eight strong men holding weapons.
After they confessed, the drug dealers killed them!
That video was very popular at the time.
And the last sentence was: "We are Jalisco New Generation. We focus on protecting civilians!"
"Gather intelligence on them. I want to understand their movements." Victor pointed at Jalisco New Generation on TV.
Casare's face turned bitter - he'd have to find informants and spend money again.
...
While Jalisco New Generation seemed to be mediating, they were actually adding fuel to the fire.
Would drug dealers stop? Several big bosses didn't agree. The three-way melee was about to determine victory when the government military interfered - what was this about?
Mexican government stopping? Did they not want face anymore?
Both sides launched even fiercer firefights around Mexicali - three-way chaos!
Gulf Cartel on one side, Juárez + Sinaloa on another, government forces on a third. All of Baja California was in complete chaos.
Fighting whenever they met.
Victor's new subordinate, Tecate Police Chief Guillermo, had some ability. Relying on weapons supported by his boss, he could basically maintain order in the city.
Victor had supported him with two BTR-80 armored personnel carriers, fifteen Browning M2HB .50 inch machine guns, plus forty AK47s, and 300,000 rounds of ammunition!
This was quite an investment, but recruiting subordinates required giving them some benefits.
Victor stayed on Guadalupe Island for another half month. During this time, Alejandro called him, saying Mexico City rejected his demands and loudly rebuked him for being an illegal armed force!
"Then let them solve it themselves."
Then he quietly waited to watch the joke.
Sure enough, the following month, Mexico dispatched a major general from the navy to command the battle.
Well... then he was kidnapped.
By Juárez's Amado.
On the road to take office, the convoy was attacked. The bodyguards died, and the major general was also kidnapped. This simply made the Mexican government lose face completely!
Finally they could only spend $5 million to ransom back this "waste."
Amado became the bona fide "General Killer."
Now asking others to take office, no one would do it.
All afraid of death.
Go find someone else.
Round and round, they finally found Victor again.
April 1, 1990.
Ensenada, City Hall.
The office was filled with Victor's laughter. He waved at the helpless Alejandro and Special Envoy Stephen Moyano before him. "Sorry, I really can't hold it in. A general captured by drug dealers."
"If it were me, I'd have committed suicide by now."
Special Envoy Stephen Moyano's face looked very ugly. "Please show respect, Officer Victor."
"Do the weak deserve respect?" Victor sneered. "If you'd found me earlier, I'd have already taken down that Abrego."
"Stop wasting words. You didn't come find me just for a tea party."
Stephen Moyano took a deep breath. "We agree to your conditions. We allow you to establish an anti-drug force after suppressing the Baja California drug dealer riots, but the number cannot exceed 1,500 people, and the government won't give a cent."
"$200 million!"
Victor extended his hand. "Plus another $200 million!"
Stephen Moyano immediately stood up. "You didn't say you wanted money!"
"That was the price a month ago. You're asking me to do things - why can't I raise prices?"
"You can go find others, pick from the army, navy, or even air force to see if anyone will go."
"Besides me, does Mexico have anyone else?"
One ruthless tough guy is enough!
"This..." Stephen Moyano said with a dark face. "I need to report this."
"Twenty minutes is enough, right? I don't have that much time to play house with you."
The envoy nodded and went out to make a phone call.
"Victor, there's no need to make things so tense." Alejandro spread his hands.
"I just want to tell you one thing - they're dogs! To get bones from their mouths, you must make them submissive. They'll know after suffering."
No money?
No moving out!
The main thing was being unpersuadable.
(End of Chapter)
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