Chapter 1212 - 591: Compromise Is an Art
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Boss, you kill the drug traffickers as soon as you see them, which makes them unwilling to surrender.
Just like the Mexican drug traffickers, theyād rather be exiles than surrender, not just because theyāre afraid of your tricks, right?
"He made a call to the United Nations Drug Control Agency, the Mexico overseas Drug Enforcement Administrationās Colombia branch answered the call."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Casareās face stiffened, let out a dry laugh; he didnāt even know how to describe Gustavo Gaviria, you poor kid.
"According to what he said, when he heard about the explosion in Mexico City, he was so scared of retaliation from us that he feared losing his head in his sleep. He hasnāt been intimate with his wife or mistress for a long time, just afraid for his life. When he heard Pablo ordered someone to retaliate, he felt something was wrong, and he couldnāt take the stress inside."
One canāt deny the ruthlessness of several major Mexican intelligence agencies.
Three Axes, high bounty, absolute confidentiality, secure transactions!
Theyāll never short you a penny.
Whatever they say theyāll pay, theyāll pay.
This has made many inside the drug cartels anxious, and itās not uncommon for someone to be decapitated by a lover in collusion. Gustavo Gaviria has heard these kinds of things every day, becoming jumpy like a frightened bird.
Whatās this called?
Psychological warfare is paramount!
Even the veteran drug traffickers canāt withstand it under such circumstances.
Donāt fear a thief stealing, fear a thief plotting.
However, someone as "forthcoming" as Gustavo Gaviria is indeed rare. His status is considered absolutely high in Medellin!
"I can almost imagine Pablo being furious right now."
Casare sighed, suddenly shivered, "Boss, I heard that bastard has a mental problem now? Moody, often hitting and scolding people around, maybe we should disguise someone as a psychiatrist to take him out?"
Assassination is also an art.
But Victor thought for a moment and shook his head, "The Ethan Hunt incident is still viewed as a disgrace by Medellin; itās not easy to get close to him. Donāt waste people on it; have someone bring Gustavo Gaviria to Mexico City."
"Boss, are you planning to kill him?"
"What a waste to kill him, at that time let Harris (Attorney General) announce that he wonāt face a death sentence, at the same time, you should give him a bonus check, reward him for providing the coordinates of Pabloās family, which allowed us to blow up his entire family before."
Gulp...
Casare swallowed his saliva.
Boss, youāre treating him like an Indian.
Whether true or not, Pablo would definitely go insane hearing this; it would not only aggravate his condition but also make him prone to many mistakes in his anger.
"Of course, the most important thing is to have him denounce Pabloās terrorism against Mexico City. We also demand that the United Nations list them as a terrorist organization. In early July, when meeting with European defense ministers, I will suggest that they dispatch troops to help Colombia eliminate Medellin!"
"I just donāt believe Pablo can survive like this!"
Casareās eyebrows trembled hard, and he pressed down his eyelids like a typewriter trembling.
These are Pabloās words originally, arenāt they?
Whatās this called?
Do unto others as they do unto you?
Victor leaned forward slowly, just covering the overhead light; he looked especially dark, "When I infiltrate into Medellin, I want to kill everyone related to him by blood, the best way to fight drug trafficking is to kill off all generations!"
Fat Casareās pupils shrunk upon hearing these murderous words.
"Hahaha, just joking, how can I possibly kill all 2,317,421 people in Medellin, just joking, joking, only kill the ringleaders!" Victor leaned back and waved his hand dismissively, saying it was just a joke.
Boss...
You know the numbers clearly, that means youāve got Medellinās roster, huh?
You said youāre just saying so casually...
But I feel chilled inside.
If it really goes down like that, even the little guys below will have to bow down to him.
Morals should exist, though.
There should still be a baseline!
"For this explosion, the government will pay compensation, 20,000 Riyals per death, and disability compensation will be granted based on the level of handicap. We must strictly control domestic public opinion, I donāt want other issues to arise."
Casare nodded vigorously, "I understand."
Seeing the boss had no other instructions, he got up and left.
At the door, he wiped the sweat off his face, gulped a mouthful of saliva, "Boss must have been named Adolf in a past life?"
...
On the internet, news of the Mexico explosion is flying everywhere, and thereās ceaseless mockery of Victor and his cabinet.
Once they have their keyboards, anyone can hide behind their computers and freely ridicule the giant.
But inside Mexico, thereās only one voice, "Loyalty and Mourning!"
Mainstream media is directing the public opinion, harshly denouncing the act, though there are a few with biased views trying to sensationalize for increased sales.
With the newspapers fresh off the printing machines, the boss and the editor-in-chief step into the "Kuzamara Reservoir Hotel" the very next second.
Under absolute power, no one can stir up a storm.
If anyone within Mexico dares to express extreme opinions online, the computerās IP address canāt escape, the cyber police are watching.
Of course, Victor covers his mouth, but oneās position determines oneās mindset.
Meanwhile, at the command center in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
Frederick Franks, with eyes blazing and face ashen, stormed into Military Inspector Major General Thomas Remās office in a huff, holding a copy of "Truth" in his hand.