The sun is burning in the morning sky, the heat is intense, the humidity suffocating.
Flies buzz around our sweating brows as we peer down a dirt road, past heavily armed soldiers and their yellow crime scene tape flickering in the breeze.
It’s the latest crime scene, a double murder, two men found after dawn on an innocuous side road in a residential area of the city of Culiacan, in western Mexico.
Image: The scene of a double murder in Culiacan. Pic: Sky News
There are many gang-related murders in Mexico every day, but this is different.
We are in the headquarter city of the Sinaloa drug cartel, arguably the most powerful crime gang in this country of cartels, and this isn’t a random gang killing, these are the latest murders in a war between two of the cartel’s leading factions – a war that could spread across this country and spill over the border into the United States.
This is a fight to the death over control of a business whose tentacles spread around the world.
The brutality, power, wealth and influence of the Mexican drug cartels are well-documented and even immortalised in fictional and factual films.
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Image: Pic: Sky News
Image: The bullet-riddle armoured vehicle abandoned by a cartel gunman. Pic: Sky News
Perhaps the most famous of all the many cartels here is the Sinaloa cartel, led by Joachim El Chapo Guzman, now incarcerated in a United States prison where he will likely be for the rest of his life.
But the Sinaloa cartel is currently engaged in a brutal internal war between its two main crime families – those loyal to El Chapo, and those who support his former partner-in-crime, Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada.
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Zambada was abducted in Mexico by one of El Chapo’s sons and flown to the United States in July. He was then handed over to the authorities, and Chapo’s son turned himself in.
It was the ultimate betrayal. And would always end as it has, with a war between the crime families.
Image: Deserted streets in Culiacan, a city ravaged by gang war. Pic: Sky News
I’ve come to Culiacan, the capital of Sinaloa state, and the headquarters of the cartel, to assess what might happen here in the coming days, weeks, months and even years as the families battle for control of this multi-billion-dollar business synonymous with efficiency, and cold-blooded execution of this business model.
I found myself at the latest crime scene, a double murder, another cartel gang killing. It is daily now.
A heavily armed column of state police rumbles through the streets in a neighbourhood in the city’s east. They’re providing extra security around the crime scene.
Image: A convoy of armed state police in Culiacan, Sinaloa. Pic: Sky News
The type of weaponry and armour the police are using is the type of thing you see in wars. The army is here too, guarding the perimeter.
On a small dirt road lie the bodies of two men who were found at daybreak. They are face down, next to each other. One of the men’s arms has been placed around the other, both are barefoot.
One of them has a small blanket across his body, and a green plastic bag covering his face. Children’s toys have been placed on top of them.
Why they were killed isn’t known. And why whoever killed them decided to leave them in this position is also unclear.
Image: Sinaloa state police in Culiacan. Pic: Sky News
But people are being murdered across Culiacan every day as this gang war intensifies. And many times, at these crime scenes, the killers will leave a message – in this case, the toys.
A group of women, clearly upset, arrive at the scene. The two dead men haven’t been identified yet, but the police say the women could be family, or they could have missing relatives, and they’ve come to see if it’s them.
This level of brutality hasn’t been seen for years in Culiacan.
The Sinaloa State Police commander in charge of the scene tells me that when the violence flares up, everyone across this city, this state, and even further afield is affected.
Image: Sinaloa state police at the scene where two men’s bodies were discovered in Culiacan. Pic: Sky News
“Whenever there are high-impact violent events, and they are generalised in the city or in different parts of the State, it is very possible that there will be social and economic impacts,” Commander Jacobo Guerrero said.
“Because businesses close, people can’t go out, and there are impacts of that nature.”
Forensic officers arrive, painstakingly assess the scene of the crime. They inspect the bodies, photograph them, and try to ascertain how the men were killed.
Eventually the bodies are zipped into bags, loaded into a white van, and taken away.
Two more murder investigations added to a growing list.
Driving around the city, the first thing I notice is the streets of Culiacan are virtually deserted. The main roads are empty of vehicles and people, and shops and businesses are shuttered.
Image: Police at a crime scene in Culiacan. Pic: Sky News
Image: Sinaloa state police in Culiacan. Pic: Sky News
People are too scared to go out – it’s as simple as that. And many of them tell me it’s quieter now than even at the height of the COVID pandemic.
I’ve reported on the Sinaloa cartel and its activities for over a decade. The cartel is actually a conglomeration of different crime families and crime gangs.
Sometimes those involved are happy to talk, but getting access is extremely hard, and we had to exploit our contacts and history of reporting from here to arrange a meeting in Culiacan.
We were allotted a time and a place to meet a cartel “sicario”, a hitman, senior enough to speak for his leadership.
Image: Forensics officers collect evidence at the scene of a deadly cartel battle in which a soldier was killed. Pic: Sky News
He ushered me into a house in a dimly lit street, past their ferocious dogs snapping at us through iron-bars of security gates. Inside he explained we were in a safe house for the “sicarios” where they plan their hits on rival gang members.
The man, who called himself Tony, was originally a member of the Chapo crime family, but he says they were taking such a large cut from his drug smuggling business that he decided to join the Mayo family because they’re more fair.
“To be honest, the entire problem, the problem here in Sinaloa has been extortion – charging people to work, charging shops, not letting people work freely,” he explained to me.
“I mean, when I started working in the cartel, I could do my job freely, and right now I can’t work or I have to pay 80% to work. They’re making me pay to work, I have to pay to work in the cartel.”
We were joined by another masked sicario, who didn’t give a name – false or otherwise.
Image: Members of a faction in the warring Sinaloa cartel. Pic: Sky News
What was clear from the start is that they consider themselves caught up in war that would cost the lives of many, even their own.
“No one is indispensable in this business, in this business one person is killed and there is another one ready to take their place,” the second man told me.
They both insist that this could go on for one, two, or even three years. And that until the score is settled, it simply won’t end.
“Tony” says that Chapo’s faction has around 2,000 to 3,000 people, and that Mayo’s has around 5,000 to 6,000.
“This will end… when there is only one side left, one of them has to emerge as the winner,” he added.
The two crime families may count their available gunmen in the thousands, they may be loyal, but they are also considered utterly expendable by their crime bosses. And the attrition rate in a war like this is horrendous.
In such times, abducting innocent young men and forcing them to fight is, we are told, becoming common.
Shortly after arriving in Culiacan, the son of a famous local journalist was abducted with two of his friends, by the cartel.
The journalist feared he had lost his son for good, and immediately contacted news organisations here in Sinaloa, and the authorities begging for help.
It seems that pressure was applied on the cartel, and the son was released within a day. He was fortunate, to say the least. Very few others would be, indeed his two friends are still missing.
I asked “Tony” and his colleague about this practice, and they confirmed it was happening, unsurprisingly perhaps, claiming their faction were not involved and blaming it on the Chapos.
“That’s right, we know about this, we know this is happening and it is a shame, things should not be like this, but things happen for a reason, these are things that have to happen,” he replied.
“You need to take care of yourself, know the person you’re with and whose side you are on.”
An expert on the activities of the Sinaloa cartel is author and journalist, Miguel Angel Vega, who is from Culiacan. I have known him for a decade, and we have worked closely on many occasions.
We talked about recent developments in his home city.
“This will not end because this is a ferocious market, and a lot of money is involved, and people keep coming,” he said.
“If someone is arrested or killed, someone else will step in, and they will take power, and I don’t think this will end, this will continue, definitely.”
Image: Members of the public look on as police survey the scene of a double murder in Culiacan. Pic: Sky News
He told me he had never seen anything like the internal war that is developing here, and gave a stark warning that there could be unprecedented violence still to come.
“Under new leadership, new management, the whole thing, that means blood – people are going to die. Every time there is change people die,” Vega said.
“And I don’t mean just gunmen shooting each other, but also society, collateral damage, and that is the situation we fear here.”
Sometimes the security forces themselves get caught in the middle.
The morning we arrived, a military convoy had just been engaged by a convoy of cartel men travelling through town in four armoured vehicles. It’s unclear who fired first, but a firefight broke out between the two convoys.
The cartel gunmen abandoned one of their armoured vehicles – it’s windscreen and body riddled with bullets.
Image: An investigator photographs a crime scene in Culiacan. Pic: Sky News
A soldier was killed in the battle. I watched on as investigators photographed his weapons, still visible on the road where he died.
Another murder scene.
Another forensic investigation.
Documenting a cycle of violence with no obvious end in sight.
We see the boat from a distance – the orange of the life jackets reflected in the rising sun.
And as we draw closer, we can make out dozens of people crowded on board as it sets off from the shore, from a beach near Dunkirk.
Image: .
There is no sign of any police activity on the shore, and there are no police vessels in the water.
Instead, the migrants crammed into an inflatable dinghy are being watched by us, on board a private boat, and the looming figure of the Minck, a French search and rescue ship that soon arrives.
Image: Minck, a French search and rescue ship, shadows the boat
The dinghy meanders. It’s not heading towards Britain but rather hugging the coast.
A few of the passengers wave at us cheerfully, but then the boat starts to head back towards the shore.
As it nears a different beach, we see a police vehicle – a dune buggy – heading down to meet it.
Normal practice is for French police officers to slice through the material of any of these small boats that end up back on shore.
Image: Sky’s Adam Parsons at the scene
Two police officers get out of the buggy and wait. A police helicopter arrives and circles above, performing a tight circle over the heads of the migrants.
The police think they might be about to go back on to the beach; in fact, these passengers know that most of them are staying put.
The boat stops a short distance from the shore and four people jump out. As they wade towards the beach, the boat turns and starts to head back out to sea.
We see the two police officers approach these four men and have a brief conversation.
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They don’t appear to check the bags they are carrying and, if they do question them about why they left the boat, it is the most cursory of conversations.
In reality, these people probably don’t speak French but they were almost certainly involved in arranging this crossing, which is against the law. But all four walk away, disappearing into the dunes at the back of the beach.
Donald Trump and a leading figure in the Israeli army have suggested a ceasefire in Gaza could be close.
Eyal Zamir, chief of staff of the Israel Defence Forces (IDF), told Israeli media that “conditions were created to advance a deal” to bring about an end to the conflict in the coastal territory, and the release of hostages.
In a televised address, he said: “We have achieved many significant results, we have caused great damage to the governance and military capabilities of Hamas.
“Thanks to the operational power that we have demonstrated, the conditions have been created to advance a deal to release the hostages.”
‘This week, or next’
It comes as the US president hosts Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in Washington DC on a prolonged visit this week.
Mr Trump said his meetings with Mr Netanyahu were focused “on Gaza for the most part”.
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He said: “I think we have a chance [of a ceasefire] this week, or next week.”
However, the US leader added: “Not definitely,” saying nothing was certain about the situation in Gaza.
Image: Donald Trump speaks, as Pete Hegseth looks on, during a dinner with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
Pic: Reuters
Image: Benjamin Netanyahu speaks during a bilateral dinner with Donald Trump this week.
Pic: Reuters
Hamas reiterates ‘keenness’ to end fighting
Meanwhile, Hamas has repeated its message that it is committed to the negotiations but warned of a number of sticking points despite the positive noises from senior Israeli figures.
In a statement, the militant group said: “In its keenness to succeed in the ongoing efforts, the movement [Hamas] has shown the necessary flexibility and agreed to release 10 prisoners.
“The key points remain under negotiation, foremost among them: the flow of aid, the withdrawal of the occupation from the territories of the Gaza Strip, and the provision of real guarantees for a permanent ceasefire.”
Mr Trump’s special envoy to the Middle East Steve Witkoff previously told a cabinet meeting that the anticipated ceasefire would last 60 days and involve the release of ten hostages and nine bodies.
A source close to the negotiations told Sky News that the hostage release would take place in two waves during the 60 days and was conditional on the ceasefire.
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While the politicians talk, so many people come from around the world to try to get across the Channel on small boats. But why?
Why make such a perilous crossing to try to get to a country that seems to be getting increasingly hostile to asylum seekers?
As the British and French leaders meet, with small boats at the forefront of their agenda, we came to northern France to get some answers.
It is not a new question, but it is peppered with fresh relevance.
Over the course of a morning spent around a migrant camp in Dunkirk, we meet migrantsfrom Gaza, Iraq, Eritrea, South Sudan, Sri Lanka and beyond.
Some are fearful, waving us away; some are happy to talk. Very few are comfortable to be filmed.
All but one man – who says he’s come to the wrong place and actually wants to claim asylum in Paris – are intent on reaching Britain.
They see the calm seas, feel the light winds – perfect conditions for small boat crossings.
John has come here from South Sudan. He tells me he’s now 18 years old. He left his war-torn home nation just before his 16th birthday. He feels that reaching Britain is his destiny.
“England is my dream country,” he says. “It has been my dream since I was at school. It’s the country that colonised us and when I get there, I will feel like I am home.
“In England, they can give me an opportunity to succeed or to do whatever I need to do in my life. I feel like I am an English child, who was born in Africa.”
Image: ‘England is my dream country,’ John tells Adam Parsons
He says he would like to make a career in England, either as a journalist or in human resources, and, like many others we meet, is at pains to insist he will work hard.
The boat crossing is waved away as little more than an inconvenience – a trifle compared with the previous hardships of his journey towards Britain.
We meet a group of men who have all travelled from Gaza, intent on starting new lives in Britain and then bringing their families over to join them.
One man, who left Gaza two years ago, tells me that his son has since been shot in the leg “but there is no hospital for him to go to”.
Next to him, a man called Abdullah says he entered Europe through Greece and stayed there for months on end, but was told the Greek authorities would never allow him to bring over his family.
Britain, he thinks, will be more accommodating. “Gaza is being destroyed – we need help,” he says.
Image: Abdullah says ‘Gaza is being destroyed – we need help’
A man from Eritreatells us he is escaping a failing country and has friends in Britain – he plans to become a bicycle courier in either London or Manchester.
He can’t stay in France, he says, because he doesn’t speak French. The English language is presented as a huge draw for many of the people we talk to, just as it had been during similar conversations over the course of many years.
I ask many of these people why they don’t want to stay in France, or another safe European country.
Some repeat that they cannot speak the language and feel ostracised. Another says that he tried, and failed, to get a residency permit in both France and Belgium.
But this is also, clearly, a flawed survey. Last year, five times as many people sought asylum in France as in Britain.
And French critics have long insisted that Britain, a country without a European-style ID card system, makes itself attractive to migrants who can “disappear”.
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Migrant Channel crossings hit new record
A young man from Iraq, with absolutely perfect English, comes for a chat. He oozes confidence and a certain amount of mischief.
It has taken him only seven days to get from Iraq to Dunkirk; when I ask how he has made the trip so quickly, he shrugs. “Money talks”.
He looks around him. “Let me tell you – all of these people you see around you will be getting to Britain and the first job they get will be in the black market, so they won’t be paying any tax.
“Back in the day in Britain, they used to welcome immigrants very well, but these days I don’t think they want to, because there’s too many of them coming by boat. Every day it’s about seven or 800 people. That’s too many people.”
“But,” I ask, “if those people are a problem – then what makes you different? Aren’t you a problem too?”
He shakes his head emphatically. “I know that I’m a very good guy. And I won’t be a problem. I’ll only stay in Britain for a few years and then I’ll leave again.”
A man from Sri Lanka says he “will feel safe” when he gets to Britain; a tall, smiling man from Ethiopia echoes the sentiment: “We are not safe in our home country so we have come all this way,” he says. “We want to work, to be part of Britain.”
Emmanuel is another from South Sudan – thoughtful and eloquent. He left his country five years ago – “at the start of COVID” – and has not seen his children in all that time. His aim is to start a new life in Britain, and then to bring his family to join him.
He is a trained electrical engineer, but says he could also work as a lorry driver. He is adamant that Britain has a responsibility to the people of its former colony.
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