Working as a police officer in Mexico

Carlos Leder sat somewhat dejectedly in the office.

Pitch black…

Only the cigarette butt appeared especially bright in the night.

He was shut down!

Really beaten into shutting down.

He had painstakingly organized 3,000 armed drug traffickers to launch a fierce attack on the eastern flank of the Allies, which was led by Mexico!

Hmm…

All that was left was fierceness. As the battle dragged on, their weapon supplies were actually very weak, and they couldn't keep up with bullets or anything else. Both the sea and the land were blockaded; even if you have money, who dares to sell to you?!

Those so-called weapon suppliers couldn't just conjure things up for you.

So you use whatever you have, even bringing out the Mauser rifles left behind in Colombia after World War II!

With such weapons, you're going to carry out a raid…

You're practically an Indian lizard crawling into a nest—indistinguishable between man and beast.

A plan to "show off one's might" before surrender, instantly turned into stupidity.

It was really very much like India in 1962!

Of the over 3,000, most were completely annihilated, with only a few making it back.

Initially wanting to put on a show, now it's just a big heap of nothing.

And that's not the end. The eastern Allied forces carried the momentum of their attack, with over ten thousand people seemingly poised to strike Medellin. The entire city was instantly in chaos.

Carlos Leder, now just the third-in-command of Medellin, was huddled, ignoring the protests and cries outside on the streets.

The various subordinate gangs of Medellin, having lost their minds, quickly lost balance. Originally enemies, they were like factions under the Bald Head during the Little Japan era. If it weren't for the common anti-Japanese slogan and Old Jiang's political maneuvers, they would've revolted long ago. Even so, General Li managed to suppress them several times.

If even the Regular Army was like that, needless to say, Medellin, this three-without organization without organization, structure, or future, really had grudges and enmity to settle.

Bam—

A series of violent kicks at the door startled Carlos Leder, who instinctively grabbed his weapon, fearfully watching the entrance.

After being slammed three or four times, the door was smashed open.

Then, he saw a group of people pouring in.

"Tran, Hodgson! What are you two up to?!"

Seeing the two leading figures, Carlos Leder shouted sternly.

These two had been with Medellin for over ten years, but they weren't legitimate members; they were incorporated during the organization's expansion and annexation processes, originally just Little Kalami handling shipments for the United States.

"Carlos, where is Boss Pablo?" That big man named Tran, looking over 50, with sagging chest and holding a Colt, questioned.

Carlos Leder hesitated, evasively, "Does the boss need to tell you what he's doing? You just need to remember, it's a rumor!"

"Moreover, you need to know that the strategy of surrendering to the Colombian Government was proposed by the boss."

This statement made everyone look at each other.

"Nonsense!" Tran saw the wavering among the people, "Don't think you can fool us, we all know. Pablo was sent to the hospital and never came out."

Carlos's expression darkened, he suddenly raised his gun, firing three shots at Tran, without a hint of a shake in his wrist.

Two shots to the chest, one to the head!

Even Jesus would shake his head!

He wasn't some softie, do you think he survived solely by relying on Pablo?

This sudden change of events made the other leader, Hodgson, panic, with a group of people aiming their guns at him.

"What are you doing?! Are you trying to rebel?!"

Carlos ignored them, taking a step forward, pointing to his head, "Kill me! Go on, kill me, and when Boss Pablo finishes, let's see if they don't skin your families alive."

Hodgson clearly didn't have Tran's guts, frightened, his hands trembled, and he swallowed.

"Third Boss, we… we just want to know about Boss Pablo. It was Tran who bewitched us; they said you were just trying to seize power by concealing information."

Carlos Leder's expression turned grim, he took a deep breath, stepped back a step, "Go, you have to believe, we are planning a counterattack. The surrender was just a temporary setback."

Hodgson looked at his underlings; no one dared to shoot each other. If Pablo really wasn't dead, their days would truly be over.

"Third Boss, about this incident..."

"Don't worry, Tran was a scourge. At this time, our brothers must unite as one more than ever."

This made them slightly relieved, hurriedly apologized, and then dragged Tran's body away. Once they turned back, Carlos Leder pulled out an Uzi Submachine Gun from under the desk and sprayed at the group!

Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat—

At close range, there's no way to dodge.

The group screamed and fell.

Hodgson spat out blood, trying hard to look back, but before he could turn his head, Carlos Leder stomped on his head and fired repeatedly at his back.

"Goddamn it!"

"You little punks think you can rebel?!!"

He swapped out the magazine with a backhanded motion, and fired another burst at those on the ground who weren't dead yet.

At that moment, John Jairo Villarquez, Pablo's personal bodyguard, ran over with two gunmen, looking somewhat shocked upon seeing the corpses scattered everywhere.

"Where have you been? Why isn't there any security in the building?" Carlos Leder questioned.

The two gunmen awkwardly looked at John Jairo Villarquez in unison. The latter's eyes narrowed, and he blurted out, "There was a bit of chaos on the road ahead. We went to deal with it."

This excuse was too flimsy, ridiculously so.

It's like me claiming I can be a groom every day, when in reality I take a flight once and rest for three days.

Of course, Carlos Leder didn't believe this nonsense. He noticed that John seemed to be gathering people lately, unclear for what purpose, but what use was it to say anything now?

This guy surely can't be planning an attack on the Allied high command and Colombian leadership at the surrender ceremony, hahaha...

He suddenly looked up, staring at the other with piercing eyes, this sudden gaze made John Jairo Villarquez panic inside.

"You two, leave." Carlos said to the two gunmen, but they looked at John first.

"Get lost!"

Carlos cursed out of anger, only then did the two flee in panic.

"I know you're under a lot of pressure lately, but don't treat the brothers like this." John said with a smile, trying to ease the tension.

Carlos Leder was direct, "What do you want to do?"

"I've noticed you've been getting close to a lot of people privately lately, that's not like you, John. I'm not thinking of doubting you, of course. After all, if you hadn't saved me three years ago, I'd be long dead. But I'd like to know what you can't say openly to me, that you have to hide."

Carlos Leder shook his head, "Do you really not trust me?"

John Jairo Villarquez opened his mouth halfway, but still stiffened his lips, "No, what could I possibly have that I'd hide from you..."

"Are you planning to make trouble at the surrender ceremony!" Carlos asked bluntly.

John stayed silent.

But sometimes not speaking is actually speaking:

"Do you want to get us all killed? You have to know, if something happens to them, we're done for."

"And do you think surrendering will keep us alive?"

John Jairo Villarquez countered, "Do you still think this is just a crackdown organized by the Colombian Government? No! This is completely different from the old American schemes where a little money would settle things. No way, the Allies, especially Mexico, want us dead. We caused Victor a lot of trouble with terrorist attacks, do you think we have any way out?"

No one is a fool.

It's just wishful thinking.

Everyone knows that playing around might get you HIV, but no one believes they'll get it themselves.

Carlos understood the intricacies inside, he also feared the surrender ceremony turning bloody. You have to know, Victor's reputation in the drug trafficker community is terrible.

It can even be said...

They'd love to eat him alive!

If Victor suddenly died, it would be springtime for the drug traffickers.

If Carlos didn't know this, he wouldn't have locked himself in the office; it's because he knew.

John grabbed his shoulder, fiercely saying, "If we take out the Allied high command and the Colombian leadership, there'll be a power vacuum. We'll have more time to retreat or prepare. Do you really want our enterprise to just vanish like this?"

"But have you considered, what if we fail..."

John vigorously waved his hand, "I don't care!"

"If we succeed, we'll set a precedent. If we fail, we'll die together, it's still better than being humiliated by those people."

Those who weren't aware might think he's some kind of hero just from those two sentences.

Isn't it just that Victor killed too many before, scaring everyone?

They want to take a gamble...

They don't want to end up as fertilizer in Colombia.

Hearing his words, the third in command, Carlos Leder, hesitated, "It shouldn't be that bad, we have hundreds of thousands of people."

"That bastard Victor isn't going to let us live. Do you think tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands make any difference to him?"

Just as the two were arguing, there was a knock at the door.

John shouted angrily, "Who?"

It was little brother, Little Kalami, who opened the door and came in with a slip of paper in his hand, tentatively asking, "Boss, the Allies have dropped another leaflet from a transport plane urging surrender. This time it's from Mexico, saying they'll guarantee our safety if we lay down our arms."

"Including the drug dealers."

"Moreover, it says that if Medellin transfers 60 billion US Dollars to the Mexican Government, even personal freedom can be guaranteed."

"Lies! They're all liars!" John Jairo Villarquez grabbed the leaflet and tore it in half, cursing, "It's absolutely fake."

"Even Casare in Mexico said on TV that he's willing to sign an immunity deal." the little brother quietly said.

John Jairo Villarquez: "..."

Carlos Leder raised an eyebrow, "Why not trust Victor one more time?"

...