cartel
In the vast criminal underworld, cartels reign supreme; get the full scope of global drug trafficking networks from notorious kingpins down to lowly street pushers.
Reason First
In Mexico, the cartels are running the politicians. Presidente Andrés Manuel López Obrador has committed to a “non-confrontation policy.” The money generated from the various fractured gangs, which number in the mid hundreds, comes from attacking cartels that sell drugs like fentanyl.
By Skyler Saunders4 years ago in Criminal
Chop Shop King
Dad was an artist about his work. He of course had to go spot his next job. I might make it seem easy, but believe me each job you would think was mission impossible. Dad would actually create tools to make the jobs possible. How did he get by with so many job's for so many years? He was the master at it all. Year's of practice, fine tuning his thoughts with each job. I remember one job he cut three air tanks into to shorten the air tanks from previous truck's. To make it easier to carry each one. Before long we had like ten homemade tank's around the property. He got the time down to give minutes or less. To be standing in front of a truck to driving it away. In this type of business time is the key to getting away clean. See none of us ever got caught while doing a job. Seriously three truck's a week for seven year's, five year's, even in Delaware.
By Michael Mullins5 years ago in Criminal
The Binder
Listening to the water lap away at the edge of the lawn as the wind caresses my face. I can only smile. We did it. WE DID IT! We saved one more. This one was a little bit harder to handle for me. I knew Samantha’s grandmother personally. She was a friend, family. I had stood and looked her in the eye and promised to be there for her granddaughter. I will not stop now. Right now, I want to just sit here. Inhale the sweet scent of nature and good wine. Tomorrow will come soon enough, and I’ll fight more idiots then.
By Tlynn Noah5 years ago in Criminal
Teeth
It truly was the perfect score; all the way until it all went wrong. The money was exactly where we were told it would be. Sure, there were two guards, but we were told their locations, and it was a simple matter to hit ‘em with tasers, blindfold, and handcuff ‘em, they were no longer any danger to anyone. They never saw our faces, and in less than five minutes the entire score was done. Cardboard boxes, like from those moving places. Each box weighed about 40 pounds, Joey said they were about $400,000 per box, by weight. Can you imagine? So much money you need to weigh it instead of counting it. So, each box was 400k, and we just backed up the van to the door and loaded 100 boxes inside. Easy as you please. We was told they was thirty-two mil’ in the shack, I guess, maybe the boxes were part of the weight or somethin’. Each of us got 5 million, and the rest was to pay bob’s contact. That part went smooth as glass. We just drove over to the storage place, like we was moving house. Entered the combo like we was told, and counted out twenty-two boxes. We closed the door and headed back to my place. We each took fifteen boxes, and went our own separate way. Easy peasy, right? Not so much. What we didn’t understand, was each box had an RFID. I know, you all saw them tags in stores. Pretty useless right? If you can get around the posts by the door, no big deal, right? Wrong. I guess these was special tags, and they had some sort of hand scanner things they pointed out the windows of they cars. I was sleepin’ when they came for me. Heh heh, I had tossed a bunch of the cash in my bed and was rollin’ in it. You ever saw a hunnert thou in one spot? It’s a shitpot of dough let me tell you. I dumped one of them boxes out, it was thousands of twenty-dollar bills. Like half an inch deep in my bed. I might have had a little sumthin’ to help relax after the job was done, and I was passed out hard.
By Brian Amonette5 years ago in Criminal
Vendetta - (Get Rich Or Die Trying)
"It's all love when it comes to family but when it come to the gang it's about taking care of what you own and who you own H-O-M-E. You might have your family but the game is your home and you take care of that". When I was younger my father would tell both me and my siblings that there would be no place like home except for being in the game.
By Essence Ventura5 years ago in Criminal
A Soul Lost in the Wilderness
He ran, he fell, he ran again. The bag hung low around his dark skinny legs, tangling him as he attempted to flee. The desert which burned his skin earlier, had turned cold and he shivered as he ran, wishing for the hot sun he cursed hours before.
By SEAN WILDE5 years ago in Criminal
Two
Jose Cupertino sped down Highway 133 in an old busted up 1985 Toyota pickup truck. He had been driving for days, weeks, hours. Time didn't really register to him anymore. His main last memory among his numerous other thoughts was of a woman handing him a black notebook. He could remember the look in her eyes as she handed it to him. It was an expression of fear, tired, lamentable fear. He was the last person anyone would suspect and that probably had been the reason of why he was chosen. He was a postal office worker in the little town of Medillin. It was a town that had transformed from a peaceful village to one of civil unrest. Killings and gunshots were now a part of everyday life. In the black book was a short plea to hide the pages secrets and stuck into the bookend was a passport, his photo imprinted in the middle of it, perfectly as though it had always been there. He had never been to the U.S. He found it somewhat ironic that now he was being forced there that night. He had barely known the woman. She had been a regular customer of his, an international customer, and later there had been a light friendship, but nothing more and now he was headed up north to meet relatives of hers that she had never seen and he had never known apart from the envelops that he would deliver to her doorstep every couple of weeks. It seemed fitting for the times, yet surreal to reality at that moment. It was under the cover of darkness that he had left Medillin with its deep green hills and humid breeze. There was a guard post just outside of the village and he was stopped, but no one paid much attention to the run of the mill postal worker. Soon the green hills were at his back and night sky were in the windshield before him. Two hours later he had made it through customs at the Metropolitan Airport. The passport had checked through, a modest business man he appeared to be in the photo and then he was taxing on the runway with another 150 passengers headed for Houston, Texas. As the wheels left the tarmac two words popped into his brain and he wondered why they would be those two words, but also partly understood and then the plane banked upward into the black space of the Columbian night sky and disappeared into the low hanging clouds that only a jungle could command and contain.
By Sound And The Messenger5 years ago in Criminal
