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Welcome to the Medellin Cartel Media Archive

Bienvenidos! This is the official archive of our operations and daily street dominance. Here you’ll find media coverage of our store & bank robberies, turfwars, roleplays, and events. Stay tuned as we showcase the power, influence, and legacy of the Medellin Cartel across San Andreas.

Whether it's blood, bullets, or big wins — we document it all.

 

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Store robbery [#52] - 28/06/2025

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Last Man Standing [#13] - Winner: @WenDo - 28/06/2025

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Smuggling Drugs to San Fierro [#6] - 28/06/2025

Story:

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Turfing San Fierro [#32] - 28/06/2025

 

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The Medellin Way [#1]

17/07/2025
@WenDo@Capital – @Vxloc

It started like any other slow afternoon at the hideout. I was lounging around while my partner gave the car a once-over. Then the phone rang. No small talk—just business. We had a new assignment: an assassination.

Some high-rolling outsider had poked his nose too deep into our operation. Now, he was a liability. The order was clear—eliminate him. An SMS came through with his current location: Bayside Beach. He was out on the water, showing off in his sports boat, a local girl beside him. The job? Take them both out, no loose ends. Then deliver the boat as proof.

We didn’t waste time. Grabbed our gear, packed light, and scoped out a vantage point on a hillside just outside city limits—quiet, remote, with a clear line of sight. No room for error.

There they were, cruising slowly in the sunlight, completely unaware. We set up, locked in, and counted down. Three… two… one—
Two headshots. Clean. Instant.

Their bodies slipped beneath the waves, claimed by the sea. We boarded the boat, wiped it down, and headed back without a trace. Job done. Clean. Professional.

Just another contract sealed—
The Medellin Way.

Spoiler

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Edited by WenDo
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Disrespectful Businessman [#2]
Date: 17/07/2025
Participants: @WenDo – @SkulioN@MarksMan

What was supposed to be a simple payout night quickly turned into something else. In our line of work, we deal with control and fear—payment is the price for peace. Those who pay stay in business. Those who don’t… well, they learn the hard way.

We’d already been patient. A club owner out in San Fierro owed us a payout a week earlier. He pleaded for more time, said he needed seven more days to gather the cash. Against our better judgment, we granted him that extra week. We keep our word. We expect the same.

When the week was up, we paid his club a visit. Instead of cash, we were met with excuses. “Not yet.” “Soon.” “Next week.” Disrespectful. Unacceptable.

We didn’t come to talk. Chairs flew, tables flipped, and the club's interior turned into a warzone. Whatever cash was in the registers, we took. On our way out, we found the keys to his luxury ride. Consider it a late fee. We drove it straight back to base—some money in hand and a shiny vehicle that’d sell for a good price.

A few days passed. Then word got back to us—he was running his mouth. Saying things he shouldn't. Threats, even. He forgot who gave him that extra week. He forgot who let him breathe.

So, we reminded him.

We rolled back into San Fierro and grabbed him right from his club. No scene, no witnesses. Just a quiet ride out to an old factory in Whetstone. That’s where his story ended.

The message was clear: respect our rules, pay what you owe, and stay in business. Cross us, and you’ll end up like him.

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Operation: Silent Exchange [#3]
Date: 18/07/2025
Participants: @WenDo – @SkulioN  @MarksMan – @Eloo

It was a warm and quiet evening — the kind that usually means trouble is just around the corner. Out of the blue, I received a call from a contact in a rival gang. His tone was cryptic, but he asked for a face-to-face meeting. No names, no questions — just coordinates.

Curious, I gathered a few of our trusted members and rolled out. When we met, he didn’t waste time. He offered us a quick job: make a discreet delivery of narcotics to a drop car hidden deep in the woods. In exchange, we’d find a hefty sum waiting. No backup, no heat, just in and out.

He pointed us toward an old house up in the mountainside — remote, forgotten. We followed a narrow dirt road until the building appeared in the dusk, as eerie as expected. Parked beside it: a black sedan, windows tinted, engine cold.

We approached with caution, scanned the surroundings, then popped the trunk. Just like he said — duffel bags stuffed with cash. We loaded the weapons we brought into the car’s trunk in return, making the silent exchange. Still no signs of trouble.

With the deal done, we got back in our vehicles and slipped away unnoticed. Once we returned to base, we counted the money, split it evenly among the crew, and moved on like nothing ever happened.

Just another quiet evening in our line of work.

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Operation: Smuggling & Drug Transport [#4]
Date: 21/07/2025
Participants: @WenDo – @SkulioN  @MarksMan – @Eloo – @BazoMK
 

The time had come. The plan was set. We were tasked with transporting a large quantity of drugs to a warehouse in Los Santos. We’d done our homework, scouting the area and observing the police presence. There was a checkpoint set up on the bridge, and we knew that if we tried to cross with the goods, we'd be in serious trouble. We needed a way around it.

After some quick thinking, we decided to find a delivery man who could help us. We scoured the streets until we found someone who could get the job done. He wasn’t keen at first — probably didn’t want to get tangled up in something messy. But a bit of cash and some persuasion, and he was on board. He’d drive the drugs over the bridge for us while we took a different route.

We loaded up the drugs into our truck and set off, the plan already playing out in our heads. The drive was tense. The sound of the engine, the hum of tires against the asphalt, and the looming presence of the police were all we could focus on. We had to time this perfectly.

When we reached the bridge, we made the switch. We handed the drugs off to the delivery man’s van in a flash, no questions asked. As soon as the van was clear, we drove past the checkpoint, trying to look as normal as possible. The police had no idea what was going on.

We met the delivery man on the other side, took back the load, and continued on our way. The hardest part was over. We reached the warehouse without incident, unloaded the drugs, and made sure everything was in place. The job was done.

Back at the base, we shared a laugh about how smoothly it all went. No drama, no police, no mistakes. Just another successful job. It wasn’t the first time we’d pulled off something like this, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Spoiler

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Operation: Anonymous Assassination Contract [#5]
Date: 23/07/2025
Participants: @WenDo – @Iron

 

It was just another typical day at the base — the usual quiet, the hum of the city outside, when my phone buzzed. An unknown number flashed on the screen. I didn’t even bother with the “hello.” The voice on the other end was calm, cold, and masked with a sense of urgency.

"An eye for an eye," he said, straight to the point. "My brother's dead, and I need you to end the bastard who did it."

The details weren’t important. What mattered was the payout: 2 million for a clean job. Revenge was personal, and that’s all he was willing to say. The job had my name written all over it.

I was the only one in the gang available, and that meant one thing: it was up to me to make sure the job was done right.

I grabbed my gloves, slid the sniper rifle into the trunk, and headed out. No hesitation, just business.

The target was holed up near a casino — classic. I parked about 100 meters away, hidden in the shadows where I could make the shot without drawing attention. The clock was ticking. My only goal was to make it clean and quick.

I checked the time. The target was supposed to leave the casino soon. I watched through the scope, waiting for him to step into the open. Finally, there he was. I steadied my breath and adjusted the focus.

As soon as he took his first step, I squeezed the trigger. The shot rang out, and he dropped like a stone.

No hesitation, no second thoughts. Just cold precision.

With the job done, I made the call. The client answered quickly, his voice a little more relaxed now.

“The money’s being transferred to the account. Consider it done.”

Another job complete. The money would be in our secret account soon. And just like that, the past was buried, and we were one step closer to the next one.

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