The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 312: The True Fighter]

In Mexico, St. Louis City.

This city lay less than 100 kilometers from the US-Mexico border, typically too far from paradise and too close to America.

The St. Louis police department's deputy chief, Saunders, clad in casual attire, stepped into a bar branded with a "Tequila" sign.

During business hours, the bar was sparsely populated.

Saunders spotted a cowboy hat-wearing guy and quickly sat across from him.

The head of the Tequila gang, Javier, tipped his hat and poured a drink from the bottle on the table. "Is Mayor Maria's speech theme still about drug prohibition tomorrow?"

Saunders replied, "She hasn't learned a thing from her previous narrow escape. She thinks a new chief can control the police department. It's naive; a police chief isn't everything around here."

"Are the new generation of politicians really that idealistic?" Javier couldn't understand. "The last shooting killed her husband, so she's lucky to have survived, yet she still wants to destroy our business."

Javier downed his drink. "We're thinking the same thing. Let's finish the job we left incomplete last time."

He asked, "Is the police providing security for her speech tomorrow?"

Saunders already knew his intentions. "Yes, the SWAT team will provide close protection for Mayor Maria and handle her transport."

"Good. Let her give her anti-drug speech. Let her have her moment of righteousness," Javier said with a sinister smile. "Our dear Mayor Maria will just have finished her great anti-drug speech and was a paragon of justice when drug dealers shoot her on the street. That'll send shockwaves!"

Saunders felt satisfied. "The chief position should have been mine. She jumped in out of nowhere -- damn it."

Suddenly, Javier's smile vanished. He asked, "What about that former subordinate of yours, the best fighter from the SWAT team? Have you heard from him?"

Saunders knew whom he meant. That guy, like the mayor, had issues; instead of taking the easy money, he focused on drug enforcement and arrested several important figures from the Tequila gang, leaving him no choice but to retaliate.

The result? His family and friends had been killed, and he lost several insiders but didn't take down anyone important.

It was infuriating.

Saunders shook his head. "No sign of him; he's been missing for two years."

Javier didn't care. "Are you going to oversee the event tomorrow?"

"There's pressure from above; we've got to make it look good," Saunders said. "When your people attack, just don't harm mine."

Javier assured him. "We'll have cars to keep you separate."

The two sealed the fate of the city's nominal highest official.

...

After Saunders left, Javier headed to the wine cellar. Beneath the cellar was a large underground room filled with weapons, where eight strong armed men were maintaining their firearms.

However, no one noticed that on the second floor of a motel diagonal to the bar, two Mexican men were watching the Tequila bar.

Dealers were a significant part of Mexican society. In places far from the capital, Mexico City, and close to the US border, dealer gangs were almost openly acknowledged.

They had been observing for days, confirming that several high-level members of the Tequila gang regularly visited the bar, particularly the leader, Javier.

...

As the night fell, the two men drove out of St. Louis towards a repairs shop in the northern suburbs, entering a workshop directly.

Here, nearly twenty individuals had gathered.

In the middle of the workshop stood a long wooden table covered in weapons. Campos was assembling an M4, while Hierro picked out his favorite light machine gun.

The mercenary leader, Bosque, directed four subordinates as they brought in two boxes, revealing C4 explosives, grenades, and rocket launchers.

Once everyone had arrived, Bosque addressed Campos. "Everyone is here."

Campos set down his weapon and rose to the head of the long table, declaring, "Let's discuss the latest updates."

The first newcomer spoke up, "The Tequila bar is the base for the target gang. Their leader, Javier, spends most of the day inside."

He showed photos and videos he'd captured on a laptop.

Campos looked at Bosque. "What's your opinion?"

Bosque was all in for a hefty commission. "You're the commander; we're here to follow your orders."

Having considered the situation, Campos remarked, "Now that we've confirmed, the St. Louis SWAT team will be responsible for protecting Mayor Maria tomorrow. This SWAT team is already corrupt; from what we know, the Tequila gang plans to strike against Maria. Knowing their modus operandi, they will likely act tomorrow."

Bosque completely agreed. "Last month, a mayor who advocated for anti-drugs was shot dead within hours of taking office."

That was typical of dealer style; they used murder as a warning.

Having dealt with the Tequila gang extensively two years ago, Campos understood their style. "Following their typical operation, second-in-command, Cesar, and the third-in-command, Feirman, will lead the assault."

Bosque inquired, "Do we divide into two teams?"

"No, three teams!" Campos took out a thoroughly studied map. "Team One led by Bosque will ambush here, here, and here. After the mayor gives her speech, she will leave from this point."

He looked at Carlos and Hierro, both in disguise. "You're familiar with the area; follow Bosque."

They nodded affirmatively.

Campos gestured to Garcia. "You take one team. Once the mayor's speech ends, I'll notify you. You'll storm the Tequila bar! The most elite forces of Tequila will go in for Maria, so ensure you eliminate everyone in the bar; leave no one alive!"

Garcia agreed, "Got it."

Campos pointed at the location of the speech on the map. "This anti-drug speech is a big deal, and both the police chief and deputy chief, Saunders, will attend. Juan and Fiona, you come with me; our target is Saunders."

Once the plan was set, the withdrawal arrangements on both sides took shape.

...

As the operation settled, Campos called Bosque aside for a chat.

Over the past few days back in St. Louis, Campos had been keeping an eye on everything. He noted that the team led by Bosque was highly professional.

When they arrived, Hawke had shared some insights.

Campos cut to the chase, "Are you interested in working more together in the future?"

Bosque understood the dangers of domestic jobs. "I don't take domestic jobs, nor do I engage with the four monsters of East Asia. Those places are too dangerous, and the odds of not coming back alive are significant."

Though they were paid mercenaries, they would never seek death willingly.

Campos assured him, "These jobs won't be about that."

Bosque nodded. "As long as the pay is right, we can work things out. I've had a few cooperations lined up with your East Coast employer, Phil Delno."

Campos responded, "I'll handle the contact from now on."

Bosque recognized Campos and his crew's professionalism; they weren't slackers. They shook hands. "Here's to enjoyable cooperation in the future."

The two men, clad in tactical gloves, clasped hands firmly.

...

The next morning.

At St. Louis Square, hundreds of citizens gathered in front of a makeshift podium.

Armed SWAT officers stood before the stage. Last year's elected mayor, Maria, addressed the citizens and media with fervor, speaking about the dangers of drugs and the crimes associated with them -- outlining their impact on St. Louis city and its residents.

The police chief looked tense, weighed down by what felt like an impossible task, while the real power, Deputy Chief Saunders, wore a relaxed smile.

When her speech reached an emotional peak, Maria removed her jacket, revealing a black bra, and exposed gunshot scars on her body. "I take my clothes off only to show my scars. These were left from the last shooting by the drug dealers. Despite being wounded, I stand here bravely. Even if I lose my husband, I will not surrender! I will keep fighting against drugs, resisting without end!"

This female mayor, taking on one of the world's most dangerous jobs, remained full of spirit.

But the applause from the crowd was sparse.

Citizens understood that the drug menace had seeped into every corner of their city.

Even with the mayor declaring war, it was in vain.

Finally, scattered applause arose, echoing throughout the square.

Maria donned her jacket back and raised her fist high, approaching the crowd beneath the podium.

Compared to the various fairies and monsters in Los Angeles, she was a true feminist warrior.

...

Under the protection of the SWAT team, Maria entered her vehicle.

A standard police car led the way, with Maria's car at the center and the SWAT's armored vehicle following closely behind.

The convoy turned from the square toward city hall.

As the vehicles turned onto the main road and approached an intersection, a heavy garbage truck suddenly barreled out from an alley.

It blocked their path, cutting off the SWAT vehicle.

The SWAT officers in the armored car didn't rush. They stepped on the brakes lazily, and the passenger side's occupant, appearing as an elderly man, slowly exited to check the situation.

The tailgate of the back vehicle swung open, creating an air of duty.

Meanwhile, the police car in front accelerated and sped off.

An SUV came charging down the opposite lane and rammed directly into Maria's car.

Having already survived one shooting, Maria saw masked individuals through the SUV's windshield and tightly shut her eyes.

She knew this day would come, but even facing death wouldn't alter her resolve.

St. Louis was her hometown, and she sought to save this fallen city.

Yet, she wasn't Batman, lacking the Wayne family's wealth and power. The city's criminals wouldn't play along with her.

Gunfire erupted.

*****

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