The woman's bust was large, and the sight dazzled them; their drool practically flowed out. The armed men on the ground were poor, never having seen such a beautiful woman before.
Their eyes shone with eagerness.
The man was fat and had large ears, and he seemed to have some status. He furrowed his brows and said calmly, "Do you want money? I'll give it to you right now, just don't hurt us."
As he went to grab his wallet,
two drug traffickers couldn't resist anymore and grabbed the woman. She screamed, and the man turned around furiously, burning with rage, "What are you doing!"
He lunged at them, but one drug trafficker got annoyed, kicked him down, and pulled the trigger repeatedly!
They pinned the woman down on the bed and raped her.
When several minutes later, the men walked out the front door zipping their pants with smug looks, the woman inside stared wide-eyed, her body riddled with bullet holes. These bastards even killed someone!
Drug traffickers are utterly lawless!
As they left, they also set a fire inside the Hilton.
The huge fire caught the surrounding buildings in its blaze, engulfing the entire street in flames.
Layers of ash spiraled up into the sky.
Many desperate refugees, seizing the moment, started looting while masking their faces. Considering Cancun City is a tourist destination with millions visiting each year, it was foreseeable that these tourists would become targets for the ruthless criminals.
The entire city, under the "military rule" of drug traffickers, fell into deeper chaos with screams and roars everywhere. Call the police?
Ha, if you call them, they are the ones who answer.
Many had no choice but to contact embassies.
The United States, United Kingdom, Germany, Hungary, and other embassy phones were overwhelmed. They initially thought these were isolated incidents, but as the calls increased, they finally realized something was terribly wrong.
They frantically reported back to their countries.
But by the time their bureaucrats realized what was happening, the slaughter within Cancun City hadn't stopped, and flights and ferries had ceased operations.
U.S. Consultant Brigadier General Jeffrey Olson hurriedly contacted Southern Mexico, but the person answering the phone grimaced, "It can't be stopped..."
"Damn it! You must minimize American losses. You bastards, is drug trafficking all you know? Idiots!" he roared furiously.
Most tourists in Yucatan were actually nearby Yanks, and many held significant positions, like CEOs of companies or state senators. It would indeed be embarrassing if something happened to them.
"Don't 'do your best'! If you can't handle it, we'll handle you! Don't forget, without us, you're nothing!" Jeffrey Olson slammed the phone down in anger.
He picked up the coffee on the desk and gulped it down, then violently threw the cup to the floor.
When the news of the riot in Cancun reached Victor's ears, he was receiving delegations from Brazil and Venezuela.
The "First World Anti-Drug Conference" was set to be held in Tijuana on May 8.
These people had arrived two days early.
The Brazilian side paid close attention to this event since the drug problem in their country was no less severe than in Mexico, with at least 10 million people involved, accounting for 3% of the population!
Moreover, gangs ran rampant, with organizations like "Red Command" being some of the top criminals; there were no good people in the slums. If you send in 11 special forces, 22 come out…
Split right down the middle.
They wanted to learn from Victor's advanced experience.
They sent the chiefs of the police department, the deputy mayor of Sao Paulo City Hall—the level was neither low nor high, but it was barely enough.
Venezuela was the same…
At the welcoming banquet, he effortlessly mingled among these people. Who said he was aloof?
He just didn't bother flattering the Yanks.
What do you think you are, standing so close and gesturing to me.
"Mr. Victor, if the government is inactive, deeply corrupt, and colludes with drug traffickers and gangs, what then?!" Suddenly, a stern-faced, bearded man approached with a wine glass, staring intently, posing a penetrating question.
The Brazilian delegates exchanged awkward glances when they saw him, while George Smiley whispered a few words beside Victor.
"Yes!" the man nodded.
The Brazilian delegation was quite a joke this time. The current president, Fernando Collor de Mello, appeared clean on the surface, but Victor knew of the shameful things he had done.
For instance, taking advantage of his brother's business trip to have an affair with his sister-in-law.
And yet, he still pretended to be incorruptible, actually heavily engaging in bribery. Gangsters even called him "Mr. 10%" because he demanded a 10% kickback on any deal.
All this was documented in files organized by the intelligence department.
The News Bureau's computers stored important intelligence from over 30 countries worldwide…
The response to Victor's anti-drug conference was also just a populist move; before attending, the Fernando Collor de Mello government conducted a survey—74% supported the anti-drug initiative, beneficial for his election.
Apart from the government delegation, there was also a private delegation representing the Brazilian reactionary party. They paid their own way to attend the meeting and had contacted the Mexican side before arriving.