Just as Song Heping and his team were frantically moving gold into the truck, a team of ard Humvees stopped by the roadside at the outskirts of Shebakey, a desert city in the southern part of Illiguo. SAD Director Alvin was staring at several monitors set up in a makeshift tent.
Each monitor displayed different scenes, capturing the surroundings of a farm in the suburbs, recorded by mini caras mounted on the assault team's helts.
Clearly, the farm was completely surrounded.
"Are the periter security forces in position?"
He picked up the radio transceiver and began to inquire.
"Company A and Company B are fully deployed, not even a bird can fly out now."
"OK, you must ensure that no one can break out from the encirclent, not even one!"
"Understood!"
Both companies were elite paratroopers from the 82nd Airborne Division.
To ensure the operation was foolproof, the "Watcher" squad conducted an internal assault, while the elite paratroopers from the 82nd Airborne Division were responsible for the periter blockade.
The 82nd Airborne Division is an old elite unit, they had also made significant contributions during the recent capture of Sadam.
If their commander said not even a bird could get out, Alvin truly believed none could fly out.
Even if they did fly out, the helicopters deployed nearby by the 82nd Airborne Division would intercept them.
"Are all squads in position?"
"Squad 1 is in position."
"Squad 2 is in position."
"Squad 3 is in position."
"Squad 4 is in position."
Since it was a very important operation,
SAD had deployed four teams from "Watcher."
Alvin's gaze returned to the monitors.
This ti he was observing surveillance footage of the farm.
This included images monitored by reconnaissance teams on the ground nearby and aerial shots taken by drones flying overhead.
At that mont, a Predator drone was closely monitoring the farm.
Night was falling, and only the farm was still emitting bursts of noise.
The assault squad slowly started moving, quietly approaching the entrance of the farm.
The air was filled with the scent of earth, and the intermittent barking of dogs in the distance added tension to the quiet night.
"All squads, begin the operation!"
Following Calvin's order, only the sound of "GO! GO! GO!" was heard in the communication channel.
Boom—
Boom—
Boom—
Then several explosions were heard.
The iron and wooden doors of the farm's various entrances were blown off.
At the sa ti, snipers hidden in the distance pulled their triggers.
The guards fell to the ground...
Fully ard "Watcher" team mbers stord into the farm like a tornado, converging from different directions towards the center.
Tap tap tap—
Tap tap tap—
The silenced MK18s and M4A1s spat flas, and several barking dogs leapt high into the air, howling in pain before collapsing motionless on the ground.
So Illiguans gathered at the farm who had not yet reacted were shot down, becoming gunned-down spirits, while a few who did manage to react retrieved AK47s and AKMs from inside the houses and began firing wildly.
Unfortunately, they were no match for the well-trained "Watcher," and in under ten seconds all were silenced forever.
The squad surrounded several warehouses on the farm based on intelligence reports, and as shock bombs were thrown into them, explosions rang out, and the team mbers fanned out to enter, search, and clear them.
Ten minutes later.
The gunshots in the farm gradually subsided and once again silence fell.
Calvin stared at the combat images on the monitor, a hint of doubt creeping into his mind.
Weren't these supposed to be Suicide Squad mbers?
But looking at their resistance, it didn't seem they were well-trained...
This operation went too smoothly!
It felt just like a hot knife through butter, effortless.
"After confirming safety, all squads imdiately search the warehouses, check for basents and tunnels, the gold wouldn't be stored in the warehouses."
"YES, SIR!"
The team mbers were very professional, each squad started their assigned tasks of clearing, capturing, and searching.
Several Illiguans were dragged out into the open space, their hands bound behind their backs with plastic ties, thrown on the ground like livestock.
Half a sheep was still roasting on a fire in the open space.
The people lying on the ground cursed.
They used all sorts of vicious language to curse the Arican soldiers before them.
Suddenly, a team leader approached one of them, pulling him up from the ground.
"What did you just say about a birthday?"
The man being pulled up appeared to be in his forties, still cursing at the "Watcher" mbers in front of him.
However, the team leader, who understood Illiguan, still comprehended.
Overall, the man expressed that they were here for a birthday party celebration, and why were these demons slaughtering them!?
Birthday party?
The team leader slled sothing fishy.
He dropped the man and ran towards the warehouse.
"Thomson! Have you found anything?"
"Damn it! It looks like there's nothing here! It's so obvious if there is an entrance!"
The team leader then ran to another warehouse and asked the sa question.
Soon, he also got an equally exasperated answer—"Damn it, there's no cellar, no tunnel here either!"
Finally, after half an hour of searching, the ultimate problem returned to Calvin.
"SIR! There's absolutely no basent or tunnel here! We haven't found any gold! The people here say they are just a family gathered to celebrate a mber's birthday."
Calvin felt half his face going numb.
He wanted to say sothing, but his facial muscles seed stiffened; he twitched his lips but couldn't say anything.
If it was true as his subordinates reported, this issue was serious.
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