Chapter 208: Training to Become a Sicario
Alex checked out of his hotel room the next morning and waited at the location where La Madre told him to. An hour passed before it quickly became two hours, and later three. For a moment, Alex believed he might have been fucked with, but in the next moment a van pulled up and several gunmen appeared before him.
They were wearing tactical gear and skull balaclavas as they shouted their commands at Alex in Spanish. Given just barely enough time to raise his hands in an act of surrender, Alex was quickly hogtied and blindfolded before being shoved into the van where it took him to God knows where.
It felt like hours had passed before the van finally came to a stop, and when it did, the blindfold was pulled off of Alex’s face, and his bindings were released where he was led into a desert gulch where several other young men were located.
Most of these men were roughly the same age as Alex, and some were even younger. Without even realizing it, Alex had been sent to the boot camp where Sicarios were trained into ruthless murderers for the Cartel.
Luckily for him, Alex understood and spoke Spanish due to the skill he obtained [Universal Translator] or else he would have no idea what was going on. The leader of the camp came out dressed in solid black fatigues as the armed gunmen who surrounded him stared menacingly at the new recruits. He spoke in an almost irritated tone as he yelled at the new recruits.
“From today forward, you are all dead. Your past identities are meaningless, and your status as a human being has expired. You are now a ghost, a walking nobody whose sole occupation is to fight and kill for the Zetas. From this day forward, you will each be given a new identity. Anyone who does not respond to their new identity when called out will be severely punished. Am I understood?”
The other recruits yelled out their acknowledgement, and Alex followed suit. It was best not to debate with the Drill Instructor, especially a Drill Instructor who worked for the Cartel. Thus, Alex shouted the same response as everyone else back to the man in charge.
“Sir, yes sir!”
“So you’re the Gringo that La Madre has personally recruited? Well, that is entirely meaningless, because here you are nothing more than a maggot, just like the rest of your comrades! Hmm what to call you? I think I will name you El Cerdo. That shall be your identity until you prove your worth to the Zetas. Is that understood Cerdo?”
Cerdo was Spanish for swine or pig, which was a name that Alex did not particularly enjoy, but rather than fight back against a group of armed gunmen he simply stared stoically at the instructor and responded in the affirmative to his new nickname.
“Sir, yes sir!”
Upon seeing how agreeable Alex was being, the drill instructor smiled, before giving out his commands.
“Each and every one of you will shower and then get dressed in your fatigues. From here on out, you will learn the skills necessary to wage war against the enemies of the Zetas. Especially those bastards in Jalisco! Is that understood?”
Once more, Alex and the other recruits shouted out in the affirmative, where they were then dismissed by the drill instructor. Alex followed the recruits to the barracks that had been provided for them, which was a group of trailers. He showered, shaved, and then dressed in a set of all black fatigues. Where Alex then went on a ruck with the other recruits.
Alex quickly found that the Zetas training program was more than just basic training. It involved a variety of training camps, most of which were modelled after special forces from both the Mexican Military and the American.
After all, the Los Zetas were founded by former Mexican special forces operatives, while the CJNG were trained by American special forces in the hopes that they would wipe out the Zetas. Only for that to back spectacularly when the CJNG revealed their true colors as the most vicious, savage, and brutal murderers south of the border.
Though Alex did not know how long he would be training here in this camp, he decided to perform to the best of his ability. Thus, after basic PT, and a long ruck while dressed in full combat gear. He returned to the trailer that was his barracks, where he took another shower before heading to sleep.
The next day was more exciting. After breakfast, Alex and the others were led to a firing range, where they were given a variety of weapons. After all, the Cartel did not have a uniform standard of arms, and thus these sicarios were expected to be proficient in any weapon they were given, or happened to pick up while fighting against their rivals.
Alex was given an AKM, which he already knew how to operate. Much to the surprise of the firing range instructor, Alex effortlessly loaded all thirty rounds into his steel magazine before rocking and locking the mag in the rifle’s magwell. Once done with this step, he racked back the charging handle and let it go, before flipping off the safety and aiming down his sights.
While the other recruits sprayed wildly at their targets, Alex set his rifle to semi auto and precisely shot each and every target. Going far out to even 500m with just basic iron sights, where he routinely pinged the steel down range. Every shot he fired made its mark, whereupon spending his entire magazine, Alex ejected it, before racking the charging handle multiple times to ensure that there was not a single spent case left over.
The Firing Range instructor quickly approached Alex after watching him perform better than all of his peers, and made a comment to him about his skill and background.
“You gringos and your guns… I’m starting to get the feeling that this level of firearms instruction is something you have already mastered? Very well. Prove to me you can handle the other weapons as well, and I’ll send you to a more advanced course.”
Alex nodded his head silently, and pulled out a Sig 552, where he followed a similar set of procedures before once more nailing every target with nothing but iron sights. He would spend the rest of his day pinging steel with perfect precision before being cleared from basic training.
While the rest of the new recruits toiled with the basic elements of combat, Alex was sent into CQB training, wilderness survival training, breaching training, ambush training, et cetera.
Perhaps it was because of his skill [Retention] but Alex learned each and every step of combat far more efficiently than his peers. What was supposed to be a yearlong training program turned out to be only two weeks for Alex, who passed the Sicario training that the Zetas put their new recruits through with flying colors.
After two weeks had passed, the Drill Instructor who greeted Alex to camp handed him a skull balaclava, which was his sign of completing training, and issued a new and more terrifying identity to Alex for him to assume while fighting for the cartel.
“Never before in all the years that I have been training sicarios have I met a man so naturally suited to combat. In two weeks, you mastered all the techniques that were supposed to take you a year to learn. You must be some kind of prodigy… I look forward to your exploits, and how you will serve the Zetas on the battlefield.
I’m starting to think that El Cerdo is unfitting for a man of your talents. I think instead I’m going to call you El Cucuy… Now go forth and make us proud!”
Alex silently nodded his head before taking the van back to the city. Where he was immediately greeted with a phone call upon stepping foot back into civilization. As expected, it was La Madre, whose voice was once more seductive and flirtatious.
“Oh my, look who completed their training, and so quickly nonetheless. I must admit, when the leader of the camp said you had passed all the tests required to become a sicario and in two weeks, no less, I have to admit I did not believe him. But they recorded you training sessions, and it is abundantly clear to me now that you really are a godsend.
Well, El Cucuy was it? Now that you’re a full-fledged Sicario for the Zetas, I have a job for you… Consider this your initiation as a hitman for the cartel. The CJNG has become more active in their attacks against our operations. In retaliation, I have plotted a raid on one of their production facilities. I want you to be the spearhead of this operation. Are you ready to cement your legacy as Mexico’s greatest Sicario?”
Alex pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one of such devices while taking a long drag from its filter. After releasing a large puff of smoke from his lungs, he finally responded to the beautiful Drug Queen with a sadistic smirk on his face.
“Consider it done…”