The total number was no more than 120 people.
The weapons they were equipped with, compared to frontline troops, were more suited for urban warfare.
Mainly, they were to deal with sudden terrorist attacks and decapitation strikes against specific individuals in the city.
The commander was a man nad Marcus Phoenix!
He was an old soldier from Kennedy’s ti.
"Sir!"
Victor was pleased with their morale, "Move out, I’ve received a distress signal from the DEA. A group of unknown ard personnel has surrounded their building, and your job is to wipe them out!"
"This is your first fight since your formation, don’t disappoint ."
The Anti-Terrorism Squad’s first fight was against the CIA!
The re thought was damn thrilling.
The "xican DEA Anti-Terrorism Squad" was equipped with modified Ford armored personnel carriers: almost 3 ters tall, about 6 ters long, weighing a total of 6 tons, with chassis capable of withstanding TNT explosions, seating for 12 people!
They could be considered armored vehicles.
Four vehicles charged out toward the gate with a nacing aura.
And this scene was captured by journalists who were dining in the cafeteria, marking the first public appearance of the "xican DEA Anti-Terrorism Squad."
The DEA, due to their close cooperation with Victor, moved their xico branch to Tijuana, a four-story building located about 7 kiloters from the security departnt.
The breathing inside the vehicle was steady; all these n were veterans, there was no scene they hadn’t seen, and the officers quietly made their final adjustnts.
"Zzzz~"
A voice ca through the communication headset, "Approaching the destination, four sedans blocking the entrance, with people inside, DEA gates tightly shut."
"Ram through them, fire at will!" Marcus Phoenix pressed the earpiece and commanded.
"Understood!"
…
"Jonathan Pannier! Get the hell out here, do you think you can just hide inside? Believe it or not, I’ll blow up your damn gate."
Aquino Johnson was fuming, holding a phone and cursing at the DEA chief on the other end, kicking at the gate.
As the head of the xico branch, he found Tulio Walters’ death extrely irritating; DEA and CIA personnel all went to see Victor, and then my man is dead, while you’re living good and well.
Moreso... dying from a gunshot by Quintero in Victor’s office building?
Have you no sha!
Even more shaless than the CIA!
F*ck your mother!
The stunt of three shots to the back and ruling it a suicide was our invention.
And most importantly, the DEA dared to ss with the puppets of the CIA’s consortium, resulting in Aquino Johnson, who spoke for the xico branch, getting scolded by headquarters nurous tis.
In the North Arica region’s assessnt, they were already at the bottom, and now they had lost all their benefits, snatched away by the DEA. Unable to save face or maintain substance, Johnson returned from Langley Headquarters in Virginia and led his employees to the DEA gate to cause a scene.
We’ll see who has the stronger punch when the fight starts!
However, he had been cursing for over half an hour, and the opponent’s gate remained shut, the phone line was open, just silently listening to him rant.
"Jonathan! You bastard from the South!" Aquino Johnson blurted out in a mont of heat.
As is common knowledge, the Civil War never really dissolved the animosity between the Northern and Southern United States; in fact, it often flared up even worse.
That’s definitely playing the bla-ga on a grand scale.
Hearing these words, Jonathan finally spoke up, "Aquino Johnson, are you wearing a bulletproof vest?"
???
Taken aback, Johnson suddenly heard a loud crash and quickly turned his head to look, only to see a black "Land Beast" ramming into the side of the sedan at the gate, pushing the car toward him.
With agile movents, Aquino Johnson grabbed the gate and tucked his body away, dodging the collision, but the pushed sedan still broke through the iron gate, and he fell on his rear on the ground.
The screams of the sedan’s driver being crushed resounded through the blaring honks of the horn.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing!" shouted an employee, rolling up his sleeves in anger, as a man wearing a mask and with a cross and an inverted skull painted on it jumped out of the vehicle door that burst open.
The man, ard with an MP5, opened fire on the CIA employee.
Bullets tore through the opponent’s body, blood spraying everywhere.
Aquino Johnson watched this scene, his eyes wide in disbelief, shouting, "Return fire! Return fire!"
Don’t think that agents are tough as nails; can they beco invincible by flesh alone?
A few bursts of gunfire were bound to kill them!
But with their rich experience, they used the cars as cover, drew their handguns, and fought back; yet with such small caliber against MP5s!
The "xican DEA Anti-Terrorism Squad" worked together seamlessly, keeping the CIA pinned down with suppressive fire.
Marcus Phoenix pulled a buckshot round from his tactical vest, slotted it into his M79 grenade launcher, and aid at the CIA agents huddled behind the car and fired!
The buckshot round—an adrenaline rush for any military enthusiast—contained multiple large ball bearings, usually used in shotguns, but in a grenade launcher, the caliber was 40 milliters!
God knows how many pellets it held?
Boom!
He fired at the vehicle, shattering all the windows including the sunroof.
"Ahhh!" cried a CIA employee crouched behind the car, clutching at his abdon.
That was… brutal!
Aquino Johnson frantically looked around, suddenly rembering what Jonathan had said a mont ago. He turned sharply just in ti to see several heads peeking out of the third-floor window; he… saw them!
Jonathan’s bald head was shiny, he was smoking, smiling, and waving at him; motioning with his mouth, "Bye-bye!"
Aquino Johnson’s pupils shrank; he turned just in ti to see a "Skull Soldier" standing behind him, an MP5 in hand unleashing a volley of bullets.
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