In the desert 80 kilometers outside Mexico City stood the highest security prison in the entire federation.
——El Altiplano! (The Plateau!)
Early in the morning, hundreds of inmates dressed in striped shirts lined up neatly, all with buzz-cut hair, clean faces, and clear eyes.
"Let's rehearse now, everyone shout out loud, and if I find anyone not putting in the effort, they're getting a special dinner tonight!" The guard, holding a baton, yelled loudly.
The guard nodded, "Welcome, officer!"
The inmates below clapped rhythmically, snap, snap, snap-snap, snap-snap-snap!
Almost all were on beat.
Pleased, the guard nodded, but then his gaze suddenly hardened and, frowning, he walked over and slammed the plastic baton down on the forehead of a burly man who'd been shouting, causing him to howl in pain.
"Don't think you can fool me with your pretense! You need to show respect on your face, worship! Understand?" He shouted loudly and broke the man's head, leaving him drenched in blood.
The guard continued to curse and hit the prisoner with the baton.
"Drag him away and get someone obedient in his place."
Two soldiers standing nearby dragged away the burly man who finally panicked, "Guard, give me another chance, please, one more chance!!!"
"Let me tell you all, the only reason you're still alive is the General's mercy! You ungrateful mutts still can't keep it together!"
"Otherwise, we'll bury you all in pits just like your predecessors!"
The agonizing screams caused the standing inmates to shiver and lament internally, with some feeling the plight of others.
Once, this "Plateau" Prison was very strict with Victor and his successors managing things very tightly, and the sewing machine business inside was quite good, but after the Popovich Government took office, boy...
He directly replaced the prison staff with his own people.
The cheers of the drug traffickers sounded again, those locked up here were those who had opposed Popovich or the drug traffickers, it was as if everything had gone back to the way it was.
Many of the former jail guards were retaliated against...
They were beaten to death by inmates in broad daylight.
There was even a guard who was flayed, and his entire family was killed in a gruesome scene.
But the dramatic moment was...
Victor returned, with an army at his back, and then the Plateau Prison was in for a thunderous transformation.
Plateau Prison wailed for three days and nights!
Nearly 3,000 inmates inside were all killed; those who had retaliated against guards met even more horrible ends with a thick iron hook passed through their chins before being hung up like fish on a pole until they stopped twitching, dying in excruciating pain.
Then, some inmates with lighter sentences were transferred from other prisons...
After all, Mexico is never short of drug traffickers.
Victor felt it wasn't friendly just to wipe everyone out; he was already actively contacting buyers in Africa, where those warlords definitely needed Cannon Fodder.
In the 19th century, they sold black people, now it's reversed!
Buy one get one free, and they're all healthy, just right for plugging bullet holes, too wasteful to leave here...
Today, "Emperor Vic" came back for a return visit to this old place; naturally, it required a good performance, so every weed in the cracks was plucked, and even the ground was wiped over and over with a cloth.
September 1st, at 8 a.m.
A motorcade drove into the Plateau Prison, stopped in the open space, and Victor along with Casare and others got out of the armored van in the center.
A man with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel ran over, "Officer! Plateau Prison Warden Kelton Torres reporting to you!"
Victor patted his shoulder and smiled, "Kelton Torres, it's been a long time, I remember you have a daughter, she must be in school by now."
As he spoke, he also said to Casare and others, "Back then I remember when I was a guard in the Second District, he was from the Third District, later I was deployed as Director, and he is one of the veterans who followed me to Guadalupe Island to become a police officer, this arm of his was lost in a fight in Tijuana."
Casare also nodded beside him, "All brothers had their arrangements asked, when we asked Kelton Torres what he wanted to do, he said he wanted to be a Warden, I said that I'd make him the national prison supervisor, he thought he wasn't skilled enough and insisted on returning here to the Altiplano, couldn't argue with him."
"Old brother, you're still tough." He patted the other's arm and then his own belly, self-deprecating, "My belly is just getting bigger and bigger."
Their conversation made everyone laugh.
The accompanying personnel following behind all looked at him enviously.
He might be just a humble Warden, but with the General's sentimental and promise-keeping nature, a phone call away for anything, what does that mean?
A voice that reaches the heavens!
The treatment of a veteran.
In principle, it's not allowed to give anyone a green light, too bad, Kelton Torres is the principle.
Hearing Victor and Casare's words, the Warden was also very excited, his eyes brimming with tears, being remembered by someone, especially someone who has become a big shot like Victor, was definitely an honor.
"Let's go, let me take a look, see how our old unit has changed."
Kelton Torres gave a quick look to his subordinates, who instantly understood and signaled secretly to the inmates and the guards standing to both sides.
Applause erupted, everyone, including the inmates, looked at him with reverence!
This made Victor and Casare exchange glances, both smiling bitterly, but they couldn't refuse Kelton Torres' good intentions and followed his lead to tour the Plateau Prison's modern "sewing machine factory."