120mm mortar rounds fired five consecutive shots!
At a glance, the waist of the hill had been blasted a few centimeters lower.
"Kennedy Heisenberg," the number three man in the Victor Cartel, charged forward with the officers, fearing that someone might still be alive after such bombardment.
"Don't kill me! Don't kill me, I surrender!"
A criminal in the yard's swimming pool, obviously lucky, quickly raised his hands and pleaded as he saw Kennedy and the others, "I have a seventy-year-old mother..."
Bang!
Kennedy blasted the man's head open with a shotgun, "Sorry, I refuse."
"Search! Check the safes, the nightstands, and inside any covers."
This was an "extracurricular activity"—raiding homes!
To develop Guadalupe Island, you need money, and if the drug traffickers are dead, doesn't that all become Uncle Victor's?
Drug traffickers like to hide cash at home. When Colombian Pablo was on the run, any place he had stayed could yield a huge sum of cash.
