Little Back Story The Twins From Chicago And Chapo
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Angeles1son85
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Mia Flores and Olivia Flores are married to the highest level drug traffickers ever to become U.S. informants. They are currently living in protective custody.
they berayed chapo and not only were imformants but joined el mencho chapo enemies and 2nd most powerful cartel in mexico lil back story how they got caught and chapo found out they were snitches tried to buy there freedom to killed em himself
Chapo, Mayo, and Vicente then got on a call together to figure out what to do. They realized they had $5 million sitting in a plane on a runway in Juárez, and if they rerouted that plane, they could get the money to Puerto Vallarta.
Vicente called the AFI office to negotiate.
“Keep the Flores brothers safe,” he demanded, “and we’ll pay you in exchange for their freedom. But it’s going to take about two and a half hours.”
“We don’t have that kind of time,” the official said.
Unfortunately, two and a half hours wasn’t going to work. The AFI and immigration officer had been serious about wanting to send Peter and Junior back to the United States, and they’d called the feds.
“The U.S. Marshals will be here in half an hour,” the AFI agent said. “They’re taking Peter and Junior. We can’t make a deal.”
The drug lords huddled together on the phone again and quickly came up with a plan B. They told Vicente to call the AFI officer right back.
“We could do this the easy way or the hard way,” he said, “but regardless, you’re not sending the twins back to the U.S. And since you’re apparently insisting on keeping them, we’re going to do things the hard way.”
As a matter of fact, the cartels were prepared to go to war to save Junior and Peter from being sent back to the United States; Chapo, Mayo, and Vicente had begun amassing an army to come get them.
The AFI agent knew he and his men were going to be outnumbered by whoever the cartels were sending, so they suited up in full war gear and shuttled Peter and Junior out of the station as fast as they could. They didn’t give them bulletproof vests, but they did push them into a bulletproof Suburban, with two armed agents stationed on either side of them. The U.S. Marshals were supposed to arrive by 1 p.m., and they had to meet them the minute they showed up.
The AFI agent got behind the wheel and began driving around the streets of Vallarta, frantic. After a few minutes, his phone rang. It was Músico, Arturo’s right‑hand man. Músico made all phone calls for Arturo and was one of Junior’s closest friends, and right then, he was demanding to speak with Junior.
The AFI officer handed the phone back to Junior and Peter. Then, Músico started talking.
“We have hundreds of men ready to fight for your lives. Every road that leads to the Puerto Vallarta airport is blocked off. Every street is barricaded. There’s no way you’re getting on that plane. There’s no way you’re going back to the US.”
As he listened in, Peter paused for a minute and realized just what was happening. But before he could say anything, Músico started to talk again, his voice cracking. “I don’t know if there will be a shootout. This might not end well. But whatever happens, Junior, please know it’s been an honor knowing you. Knowing the both of you.”
When Músico said that, Peter thought about a million things, but three really stuck out. First, he remembered what his dad always said to him: “Don’t ever let them take you to jail.” Next, he thought about me. Finally, he said to himself, Junior and I came into this life together, and I guess we’re going to leave this world together. Then he grabbed his brother’s hand, closed his eyes, and felt hot tears start to run down his face.
Junior choked up as he was talking to Músico. “But . . . our family.” Músico replied, “Don’t worry about your family. You have my word that I will guard them with my life and get them out of Mexico safely. I promise I won’t let anything happen to them.”
That was the signal for the AFI officer to make his move. He rolled down his window, put on his turn signal, and as he inched toward the side of the road, he motioned for his caravan to pull over, too. Then he jumped out of the car and made a call.
As he held the phone to his ear, he began pacing back and forth, clearly distraught. The U.S. Marshals were about to roll into town, guns blazing, ready to capture the Flores brothers, and they were going to run right smack into the cartel’s army. Something devastating was about to happen, and the AFI officer knew he’d put his men in the middle of it.
Then, he got back in the car and drove slowly toward the plaza in downtown Vallarta. As he rounded a corner, he saw almost a hundred men holding AK‑47s, their guns drawn. Probably half of them surrounded the AFI officer’s caravan, and Mencho walked up to where Junior and Peter were sitting.
“Cuate? Time to go.”
The AFI officer looked at Peter and Junior, put his gun on the floor, and exited the car with his hands up. As he opened their door, Mencho said, “Vamos,” signaling for them to get out.
Junior and Peter slid off the seats just as two of Mencho’s men took their places in the back. They were decoys, intended to throw off the Marshals, who were getting closer.
Then Junior and Peter walked quickly toward a waiting car. Before they reached it, though, Junior turned around, approached the AFI agent, shook his hand, and told him, “You did the right thing. Don’t worry, I’m not going to let anyone harm you. My brother and I are going to look out for you.”
https://youtu.be/qNFn5-zUKRM
they berayed chapo and not only were imformants but joined el mencho chapo enemies and 2nd most powerful cartel in mexico lil back story how they got caught and chapo found out they were snitches tried to buy there freedom to killed em himself
Chapo, Mayo, and Vicente then got on a call together to figure out what to do. They realized they had $5 million sitting in a plane on a runway in Juárez, and if they rerouted that plane, they could get the money to Puerto Vallarta.
Vicente called the AFI office to negotiate.
“Keep the Flores brothers safe,” he demanded, “and we’ll pay you in exchange for their freedom. But it’s going to take about two and a half hours.”
“We don’t have that kind of time,” the official said.
Unfortunately, two and a half hours wasn’t going to work. The AFI and immigration officer had been serious about wanting to send Peter and Junior back to the United States, and they’d called the feds.
“The U.S. Marshals will be here in half an hour,” the AFI agent said. “They’re taking Peter and Junior. We can’t make a deal.”
The drug lords huddled together on the phone again and quickly came up with a plan B. They told Vicente to call the AFI officer right back.
“We could do this the easy way or the hard way,” he said, “but regardless, you’re not sending the twins back to the U.S. And since you’re apparently insisting on keeping them, we’re going to do things the hard way.”
As a matter of fact, the cartels were prepared to go to war to save Junior and Peter from being sent back to the United States; Chapo, Mayo, and Vicente had begun amassing an army to come get them.
The AFI agent knew he and his men were going to be outnumbered by whoever the cartels were sending, so they suited up in full war gear and shuttled Peter and Junior out of the station as fast as they could. They didn’t give them bulletproof vests, but they did push them into a bulletproof Suburban, with two armed agents stationed on either side of them. The U.S. Marshals were supposed to arrive by 1 p.m., and they had to meet them the minute they showed up.
The AFI agent got behind the wheel and began driving around the streets of Vallarta, frantic. After a few minutes, his phone rang. It was Músico, Arturo’s right‑hand man. Músico made all phone calls for Arturo and was one of Junior’s closest friends, and right then, he was demanding to speak with Junior.
The AFI officer handed the phone back to Junior and Peter. Then, Músico started talking.
“We have hundreds of men ready to fight for your lives. Every road that leads to the Puerto Vallarta airport is blocked off. Every street is barricaded. There’s no way you’re getting on that plane. There’s no way you’re going back to the US.”
As he listened in, Peter paused for a minute and realized just what was happening. But before he could say anything, Músico started to talk again, his voice cracking. “I don’t know if there will be a shootout. This might not end well. But whatever happens, Junior, please know it’s been an honor knowing you. Knowing the both of you.”
When Músico said that, Peter thought about a million things, but three really stuck out. First, he remembered what his dad always said to him: “Don’t ever let them take you to jail.” Next, he thought about me. Finally, he said to himself, Junior and I came into this life together, and I guess we’re going to leave this world together. Then he grabbed his brother’s hand, closed his eyes, and felt hot tears start to run down his face.
Junior choked up as he was talking to Músico. “But . . . our family.” Músico replied, “Don’t worry about your family. You have my word that I will guard them with my life and get them out of Mexico safely. I promise I won’t let anything happen to them.”
That was the signal for the AFI officer to make his move. He rolled down his window, put on his turn signal, and as he inched toward the side of the road, he motioned for his caravan to pull over, too. Then he jumped out of the car and made a call.
As he held the phone to his ear, he began pacing back and forth, clearly distraught. The U.S. Marshals were about to roll into town, guns blazing, ready to capture the Flores brothers, and they were going to run right smack into the cartel’s army. Something devastating was about to happen, and the AFI officer knew he’d put his men in the middle of it.
Then, he got back in the car and drove slowly toward the plaza in downtown Vallarta. As he rounded a corner, he saw almost a hundred men holding AK‑47s, their guns drawn. Probably half of them surrounded the AFI officer’s caravan, and Mencho walked up to where Junior and Peter were sitting.
“Cuate? Time to go.”
The AFI officer looked at Peter and Junior, put his gun on the floor, and exited the car with his hands up. As he opened their door, Mencho said, “Vamos,” signaling for them to get out.
Junior and Peter slid off the seats just as two of Mencho’s men took their places in the back. They were decoys, intended to throw off the Marshals, who were getting closer.
Then Junior and Peter walked quickly toward a waiting car. Before they reached it, though, Junior turned around, approached the AFI agent, shook his hand, and told him, “You did the right thing. Don’t worry, I’m not going to let anyone harm you. My brother and I are going to look out for you.”
https://youtu.be/qNFn5-zUKRM