"Are you insane?" As soon as it was all over, Crocodile's voice erupted in anger as he pointed at the lifeless bodies of the hitmen.
"No." Tig knew it would be useful to have someone to interrogate, but they'd be lucky if they could capture anyone alive in this kind of shootout.
Crocodile's eyes widened, as if he thought Tig was crazy, and he muttered, "Well, I guess he'll take care of it..."
"He?" Alejandro entered, looking at the lifeless bodies strewn across the floor, and asked, wanting to know who this man Crocodile was talking about.
"Well, just in case we couldn't find anyone to interrogate, our big boss would handle it personally," Crocodile said in a serious tone.
"The big boss is here after all." A smile spread across Tig's face as he said those words. The men cleaning up the area glanced at their leaders, who had just revealed that Dante was in Mexico.
"We can't strike again after this. The cartels will tighten their defenses as soon as they hear we attacked one of their depots," Alejandro said, frustrated by how reckless these people were.
"Ah, we didn't tell you, but the boss is leading another attack right now. His target is the leader of the Salazar cartel in this area. Like you said, they won't rest until we're dead. That's why we're going to kill as many of them as possible tonight," Crocodile explained as he walked toward one of the bodies still clinging to life.
"When the Jiménez Cartel sends their attack team, it won't be like the ones we just killed. They'll be more alert after what we've done, so it'll be harder for us to strike! And don't even think about ambushing them. They'll definitely bring better equipment and bigger weapons."
"We have to hit them first before they can react and wipe them all out. Every last one of them!" Tig interjected firmly.
Survival was what everyone wanted in this war, and Alejandro was no exception. He wanted to fulfill his revenge before dying, so he decided not to interfere with the crazy attacks SAMCRO planned to carry out.
As Alejandro watched Crocodile approach the man writhing on the ground, he turned and walked toward the exit.
He didn't know what Crocodile was planning, nor did he need to. All he needed to know was that they were on the same page and that he could trust them.
Crocodile kicked the writhing man to wake him up.
"Please, please, please, let me go!" the hitman begged, gasping for breath.
"I will, after you tell me what I want to know," Crocodile said in a calm tone.
However, the calm tone seemed to terrify the hitman even more, as he couldn't tell if Crocodile was being truthful or not.
But at that moment, he had no choice.
Crocodile was the one holding his life in his hands.
"What do you want to know?" the hitman asked weakly.
"Everything you know about places like this in Juárez. The exact locations of their bases and how many men are stationed there," Crocodile demanded, taking charge of the small interrogation.
"I don't know much about the weapons warehouses, but you can find their drug containers near Sixth Avenue, in an underground storage area. We have twenty men—AAAAAAH!"
Before he could finish, he screamed in agony.
Crocodile had cut off one of his fingers with a knife.
"Shut your mouth. Don't tell me nonsense I don't care about. Tell me about the weapons. Where are they?" Crocodile asked, holding the knife in his hand and staring coldly at him.
"I really don't know much about that. I was a nobody before I got here, but I can tell you one thing: these weapons warehouses are shared with cartels that have decided to form an alliance against Felipe Lobos' cartel. So, in this attack, you're hitting more than just one group," the hitman revealed, driven by pain and fear.
"This is just one of the hundreds of points the Jiménez cartel has. You can look for their distribution factories; that's where you'll find most of their hubs. But some are more heavily guarded than others, with as many as hundreds of hitmen at times."
Hundreds of men?
Crocodile squinted his eyes.
This number of targets was significant, even if they weren't militarily trained. Many soldiers ended up in the hands of people who could barely aim a weapon, so they needed to proceed carefully.
"Well, thanks for the information." When Crocodile finished speaking, he raised his knife again.
These weren't peaceful times. The war had already been raging in this country for a long time.
"Don't kill me!" The hitman flinched as Crocodile raised the knife again.
"Is that all you've got?" Crocodile asked again.
The hitman hesitated, but Crocodile didn't.
As he brought the knife down, he cut off another finger.
"AAAAH!" the hitman screamed once more.
"Seems like you're not being clear enough. Do I need to ask you again?" Crocodile questioned, raising the knife once more.
"There's an external force that arrived recently. They provide information and call themselves the Twelve Monkeys. I don't know anything more than that," the hitman confessed with the last bit of information he had.
"The Twelve Wolves?" Crocodile was confused.
Everyone had understood that the Twelve Monkeys was an organization the Jiménez cartel had created to pose as terrorists and take down gangs under Dante's command. But for the first time, it seemed they were mistaken.
He had never thought the Jiménez cartel might have connections to one of their own organizations that turned out to be different than they had expected. As far as he knew, the Twelve Monkeys operated independently but were related to the Jiménez cartel.
This revelation enraged Crocodile, who gripped the knife tighter as he realized the error they had made.
His anger turned into a thirst for blood.
However, he faced the hitman with calmness.
"Very well. It seems you've understood our way of talking. Now I'd like you to tell me how I can find the leaders of the Jiménez cartel. Everything. Now!" Crocodile demanded coldly.
"Yes... yes!" The hitman nodded before spilling the rest of what he knew.
The hitman didn't notice that Crocodile's eyes had turned icy cold.