- A-agh!
The criminal who was involved in the fight was holding his leg and yelling in pain.
The sudden appearance of the "violent man" had clearly increased the pressure on both groups. They glared at each other, ready to swallow their opponents.
Victor blinked and discerned who they were. These guys were called the Blood Alliance, they had long been involved in human trafficking near Mexico, smuggling refugees into the US.
Their forces could be described as average across the country, but these people were operating very dirty.
Many foreign travelers have disappeared without a trace, and it is said to be their doing. The Mexican Crime Division believes they have close ties to organ trafficking in Southeast Asia.
The other group was called the Texas Syndicate (TS7). This was an international organization made up of mostly Mexican immigrants either serving time in or out of U.S. prisons.
This syndicate was created to protect Mexican immigrants from being killed by other California gangs such as the Aryan Brothers and the Mexican Mafia.
Sorting out their mutual strife would be difficult for even the fairest judge.
- Officer, isn't fighting illegal? - with long hair, a snake tattooed on his arm and a cigarette in his teeth, one of them threw the butt at Victor, who pretended to panic awkwardly.
- 'Sorry, sorry,' he said and punched the member of the task force in the stomach, causing him to fall to his knees in pain.
He then pointed at Victor defiantly, "You police dog, you want to interfere? Who the hell are you anyway?
The rest of the gang watched this spectacle.
- I'm telling you, in this prison....
Pow!
Before he could finish, he was shot in the head. At such close range there was no chance, and he collapsed to the ground.
The crowd fell silent.
- Let someone polite and with clean teeth come out, - Victor, holding the gun, said: - I am a fair man. Whoever has questions, let him come out and tell me to my face.
The members of the Blood Alliance and the Texas Syndicate exchanged glances, swallowing tensely.
Maybe out of pride, one of the Blood Alliance stepped forward, swallowing a lump: -Officer, you think we're afraid of you just because you have a gun? You only have twelve bullets, and there's a lot of us here.
- I know.
Victor grinned: -I only have to take out a few of the most bullied.
Criminal organizations all over the world are the same, they're afraid of force!
Why do Mexican drug traffickers have the courage to attack the police and kill with impunity?
It's a matter of politics and corruption at the upper levels. But if a tougher government comes in, which gang would dare to behave like this?
American mob boss Al Capone was tough, right? Nicknamed the King of Chicago, he was the face of the Thompson machine gun.
But if the U.S. government decided to deal with him, it was easy. The FBI couldn't touch him, but the IRS could, and tanks pulled up to his house that very night.
- I repeat, on your knees!
Seeing that Victor was serious, the members of the Blood Alliance and the Texas Syndicate reluctantly complied, although some were watching him furtively, intending to retaliate later.
- Casares, who hit you?
The guards all turned around at the same time, Casares awkwardly pointing at one of the big guys who had gone pale.
Victor walked over and kicked him in the face. The man, enraged, tried to respond, but Victor held a gun to his face, "You bastard, the whole prison knows that Casares is my brother and I'm protecting him. You touch him, you don't respect me.
- If you've got balls, leave the gun and let's go one-on-one," he said stubbornly, but kept his eyes on the gun, afraid of a shot.
He was obviously scared, but he didn't want to lose face.
- One on one? What time are we living in? I have a gun and I'm going to fight one-on-one? Your mother must have damaged your brain when she carried you," Victor elbowed him in the face.
It was so hard that the skin cracked and he fell to the ground, writhing in pain.
Victor kept kicking him several times.
- Stop, Victor!
A loud and angry voice sounded as Webster, pushing aside the surrounding guards, entered. Seeing the corpses and mutilated criminals, his face turned purple with anger.
- What are you doing?! Who let you shoot in prison?!
A flood of questions came, but Victor remained silent, and Casares intervened: "Warden, they attacked the guards first.
- And that justifies murder?
- Then arrest me," Victor held out his hands, interrupting Webster abruptly. - We're cops, they're criminals. If they dare to attack, we should beat them up! Who gave them the right to attack prison guards? The law or Jesus?
- Warden, I, Victor, cannot tolerate them hitting my coworkers and friends. It's an insult to me. If you can't stop it, I'll do it myself. The police have to have dignity too.
Victor was almost yelling at Webster, and Casares was playing along:
- That's right, Chief, there are problems every morning during the walk-through, and you do nothing. We suffer, our work becomes unbearable, we get beaten up all the time. Then I'd rather go to work for drug dealers.
These words resonated with my colleagues. Many of them were tired of this injustice.
In prison, they often accepted bribes from drug traffickers but were also attacked by them.
The facial expressions of the prison guards became very complicated.
Seeing this, Victor deliberately fomented discontent among the guards.
The prison had long been ripe with hatred for Webster.
After the soccer game, when Victor was hurt and three police officers were killed, there wasn't even compensation.
Victor needed an ally in prison. Webster, in his opinion, had to go. Otherwise, either he would die or Victor would. They couldn't coexist.
Victor could choose to transfer, but he wasn't about to let go of control of the prison "authority."
Webster could probably move Victor, but he didn't have the power to fire him.
Firing a police sergeant requires approval from higher ups. Of course, Webster could try to get rid of Victor, but failing to control the prison would undermine his authority.
Victor wanted to use this situation to advance his position.
Wanting to advance requires action, not waiting for something to fall out of the sky. It's foolish to believe that spending a few pennies can get you a deal worth millions.
- You're doing a great job," Webster pointed at Victor and Casares, his face flushed with anger.
- I'm just protecting my coworkers, boss! I will not allow their dignity to be taken from them in defense of justice.
Those words sounded loud and convincing, but the whole point was business.
Webster, clenched his teeth, pointed at them and walked away.
- Put these men in one cell and give them one bowl of food a day for seven days. See if they start fighting over the food," Victor ordered the task force.
The small squad, which had been disorganized up to that point, reluctantly but obeyed: - Yes, sir!
The prisoners involved in the fight were taken to solitary confinement.
Those who tried to resist were immediately beaten with batons. The remaining guards returned all the other prisoners to their cells, but many of them gave Victor strange looks as they passed him.
- Victor, giving the prisoners one bowl of food a day could get them killed," Casares remarked.
- Maybe we shouldn't make things too much worse.
- You think the situation today was insignificant? My head will probably be on some gang's bounty announcement by nightfall," Victor said it calmly, without a trace of fear.
- If they die, that's even better. Then we can get media attention, spin a story about the chaos in prison management and Webster's incompetence, making him look like a corrupt and brutal cop. Would anyone else support him then?
The power of public opinion is great. It can easily destroy a man.
- Or you could get some prostitutes to tell the newspapers that he likes to play hardball. Regardless of the truth, such rumors quickly become truth.
Casares looked at Victor in amazement. He realized that Victor was cunning and devious. If he followed his path, Webster's name would be known throughout Mexico City.
- Did you see the rapid response unit?
Casares nodded.
- Find a way to build a relationship with them. I'll try to raise your rank so you can command them.
- Can you really do that?
- Sure, all I have to do is bribe my superiors.
- And if they don't take the bribe?
Victor stopped and looked at him thoughtfully: "Then let Holder keep an eye on their family. Either they take the money or their families die. Let them choose.
- Do you have the money to do that? - Casares always asked uncomfortable questions.
Victor didn't like that question.
- I'll have to try to find more buyers this month. At the very least, we'll have to advertise in the newspapers.
- Do you have the goods yet?
- Enough ammunition from Soviet warehouses to fill the entire Pacific Ocean. Now I need buyers! Buyers! Buyers!