Chapter 209: A Drug Fueled Assault
Having graduated from becoming a Sicario for the Los Zetas Cartel, Alex soon found himself transported to a safe house. Where he discovered a plethora of weapons to choose from. Whether it was the plate carrier with level IV plates that he adorned over his chest, or the gun belt which contained his sidearm, and spare magazines, among other things. Alex soon found himself more strapped than he had ever been in his life.
In his hands was an AK-105. But it had been completely decked out in modern accessories. All the while he wore a skull balaclava, and a pair of ballistic goggles that concealed the skin around his eyes.
Alex’s heart was pounding. After all, though, he had been involved in several shootouts at this point. He had never found himself in the middle of a Warzone, and that was exactly what he was now preparing for. Whether it was the armor-piercing rounds in his magazines, or the suppressor threaded to the barrel of his rifle. This was a very real and sobering thought.
Still, he had no time to rethink his actions. He had already stepped upon this path, one that would be littered with corpses, and a river of blood. A path that could very easily result in his demise. Despite this, Alex forced himself to move forward. Stepping into the 4×4 pickup truck that had amounted heavy machine gun in the bed. Where he and the other sicarios drove towards their destination, along with several other trucks just like there.
Sitting quietly in the back seat of the pickup truck, Alex looked at his phone, where he saw several messages from his many women. He wanted more than anything to respond to these messages. But he knew that if he did, and he ended up dying on this attack, whatever he said would be the last thing any of these girls ever heard from him.
Because of that, Alex chose to remain silent, as he said the lord’s prayer silently in his mind to keep him calm. Alex was by no means a Christian, but he had been raised in the Church, and it was now when facing his death that he felt some degree of serenity simply by praying to a divine being.
Upon seeing how nervous Alex was, one of the sicarios laughed at him, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bag of white powder. He laid the powder out on the seat and motioned for Alex to take a bump. Though Alex had used cocaine before, he did not exactly want to get drugged out of his mind before engaging in armed combat with a rival cartel.
But for whatever reason Alex’s body moved without the permission of his mind, and he had pulled up his balaclava and taken an enormous bump of coke, where all the anxiety and panic he previously felt completely faded from his system.
Maybe God had heard Alex prayer’s, but the moment he stepped out the truck’s door a bullet flew right past his head and penetrated the skull of the sicario behind him, killing the man on the spot. If there was ever a moment where Alex would piss himself in fright, this would have been it. Yet his trousers remained completely unsoiled as he rushed forward a nearby concrete wall to use as cover against the enemy’s own heavy machine guns.
The moment Alex ducked behind cover, he looked back and saw one of the pickup trucks explode. Apparently it had been struck by a rocket-propelled grenade which the vehicle had no chance of surviving against.
Knowing that most of his team was already down, Alex decided to aim down his sights beyond the barricade and open fire. Luckily for him, he was not just dealing with iron sights, and instead had a holographic sight mounted to his dustcover’s rail.
The red dot aligned perfectly with the torso of the enemy, which caused Alex to squeeze the trigger just long enough to send three armor-piercing projectiles down range and into the enemy. The sicario who Alex had shot dropped to the floor, seemingly bleeding out as his heart was burst apart by the tumbling bullets.
Yet Alex did not pay his victim any focus, as he quickly ducked behind cover, narrowly avoiding another shot, which tore a chunk out of the reinforced concrete wall’s edge. Alex then brazenly shot around the corner again, aiming towards the skull of one of the heavy machine gunners who sat behind a barricade. The bullets tore through the man’s ballistic helmet, which as only rated to defend against pistol rounds, killing the machine gunner in an instant as they did so.
Luckily for Alex, after killing the machine gunner and the AT operator, his team was capable of pushing forward, where they quickly seized the objective. In the end, several prisoners were gathered. Some were enemy sicarios who had survived the onslaught.
They had a looked of certain death on their face. They knew what the price of failure was and were prepared to accept such a fate the moment they signed up for this job. As for the other prisoners, they were the workers who processed the cocaine. These weren’t cold-blooded killers or cartel bosses. But rather average people from the streets either roped into the job by force, or simply looking for an easy payday to escape their impoverished lives.
Despite processing the cocaine, these people had never directly hurt anyone for the most part, and in all honesty could be considered mere civilians. As the Zetas sicarios gathered the prisoners and bound them with zipties, they also blindfolded them. Where the commander of the assault team walked over to Alex and gave him a chilling order.
“La Madre wants us to send a message to those bastards in Jalisco. Pick three prisoners, and chop off their heads. We’re livestreaming this shit.”
Alex gulped when he heard this. He knew he would have to do engage in some bloody business as a hitman of the cartel. But to decapitate someone on camera. Shit, he felt like he might as well have signed up with ISIS.
Yet despite his misgivings he was handed a machete and given the option to choose. However, as he approached one of the sicarios the leader of the assault team stopped him.
“Oi, when I said pick three prisoners I meant them! La Madre has something special in mind for these fucking bastards!”
Alex then looked over and saw the terror in the eyes of those employees who processed the cocaine on behalf of the CJNG cartel. They had obviously overheard what he had said, and began to say their prayers to their God.
As Alex gazed upon his potential victims, he immediately singled out the women. There was no way he was going to murder a woman in cold blood. Unless, of course, she did something to warrant such a thing. Processing cocaine was far from worthy of such a fate. And thus, Alex looked towards the men in the group.
He knew that all of these people were already dead anyway, even the ones who he did not decapitate would not be spared, at best they’d get a bullet in the brain, and at worst… Well for the women they might suffer a different faith altogether. One that was arguably worse than death…
Still, Alex had to choose three of these prisoners to make an example of. And thus he took a deep breath before leaving it to chance. Playing a game of duck, duck, goose to select his victims.
He then landed on the head of a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties. Having selected his first victim Alex then gazed towards the Camera which luckily did not reveal his identity or his mortified expression.
Alex took a deep breath, and after that he did not remember anything else. He woke up the next day completely hungover and with five beautiful young Mexican women in his bed. Any memory of what he had done the day before had been completely drowned out by alcohol, and judging by his current state, copious amounts.
As Alex crawled out of his bed completely naked, he received a call from his employer whose seductive voice was like a nail being dragged across a chalkboard.
“Well, well, well, look who it is? Word has gotten around about El Cucuy and his daring assault on the Jalisco processing facility. That video you took with your body cam is all over the darker corners of the internet. Have you seen it yet?”
Alex groaned as he reached towards the bottle of tequila that was opened and sitting on his hotel room’s desk and took a giant swig before commenting on La Madre’s statement.
“Don’t remind me… I just want to forget about yesterday… I can’t believe I executed those prisoners…”
However, La Madre’s voice was strange as she questioned Alex’s sanity was talking about in a way that confused him.
“How drunk are you? What the hell are you talking about? It sounds to me like your memories are jumbled. Why don’t you watch the video and see exactly what you did yesterday? I’m sending it to your email now. Hold on…”
Alex looked over at the table and saw that next to his tequila was his laptop, which was open and charging. He sat down at the desk and typed in his password before accessing his email, where he saw a message with a video attachment waiting for him. When he played the video, he was shocked about how much his drug and alcohol fueled brain had gotten wrong about yesterday’s events.
