Los Mechas Claim Mexicali at Gunpoint

A shirtless captive is questioned with a pistol pressed against the side of his head. The footage is dark and grainy, with a harsh light on his face and little visible in the background. The man questioning him speaks in a distorted voice.

He is thin, with dark, messy hair, a faint mustache, and sparse facial hair along his jawline. He appears frightened. His eyes dart between the men questioning him and the camera before repeatedly dropping to the ground. His responses are brief. At one point, someone grabs him by the hair and forces his head downward.

Watching him, I wonder if it’s hit him yet: “I’m about to die. How in the fuck did I get here?” It’s a familiar look—a man still trying to hold himself together after his will has already given out.

The gunman asks who supplies him with drugs. He describes a chubby man but says he does not know what people call him. After being told he can walk away alive, he gives a nickname.

Then the questioning shifts to fentanyl. The gunman says his group has banned its sale and asks why they were selling it. The captive states nobody told him about the rule.

The interrogator identifies his group as Los Mechas, says they work for Mecha Corta, and invokes “the four letters.”

This is the franchise model CJNG uses to expand throughout Mexico. Regional groups and cells can maintain their own identities and local leadership while working under the larger CJNG organization.

That structure is shown here. The gunman calls his group Los Mechas, names Mecha Corta as their leader, and then clearly states their bigger affiliation: the Four Letters.

“The city of Mexicali has an owner,” he says, naming Los Mechas.

He ends with a threat against Los Rusos and anyone still selling drugs in defiance of his group’s orders.

The translation and transcription below were provided by Sol Prendido.

Sicario: Who hands you the drugs?

Captive: Some chubby guy.

Sicario: What’s his name?

Captive: I really don’t know what they call him.

Sicario: Look here you fool. I’m going to give you the opportunity to walk away alive from this. What’s he known by?

Captive: Cahca.

Sicario: What’s he called?

Captive: Cahca.

Sicario: Okay. So, why were you guys selling fentanyl if we already said no one could sell it here?

Captive: Because…I wasn’t aware of this rule. No one said anything to me about it.

Sicario: So, no one said anything to you about it? Okay. Are you aware of who we are?

Captive: Yes.

Sicario: We’re the guys in charge here. We are a mob for Mecha Corta. We’re the Mecha’s. We are the four letters cartel.

Captive: Okay.

Sicario: The city of Mexicali has an owner. And it belongs to the Mechas, the Mecha Cortas. Do you understand this? This will be the fate of every fucking Rusas who are selling shit out here and fucking off with our rules.

Sadly, there is nothing extraordinary about this ending. Somewhere in Mexico, this is just another ordinary day.