New type of explosive bomb!
A whistle and in the blink of an eye, the cross at the Almshouse was hit!
Jesus, bound to the cross, could never have expected such treatnt thousands of years later.
The heavy, several-hundred-pound cross ca smashing down, annihilating the drug trafficker’s position on top!
Three or four people couldn’t dodge in ti and were crushed into atpies.
"They’re pulled out, pulled out!" shouted the assisting soldier excitedly from behind.
Ludwig Becker tossed away the SMAW rocket launcher, waving his hand, "Follow ! Take the Almshouse!"
"Mother Cow" Jose Armando, clutching his gun, ran anxiously, not noticing a drug trafficker around the corner and collided with him,
Knocking him a bit breathless.
"Sorry… sorry, sir." The drug trafficker stamred in fright.
Jose Armando waved his hand, "No problem, where’s the boss?"
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"In there." The drug trafficker pointed inside.
Armando patted his shoulder, clutching his sore ribs - the collision had been harsh. He entered and saw El ncho injecting insulin.
His emotions destabilized, he couldn’t control his blood pressure properly, while his private doctor trembled beside him.
"Is sothing wrong with ?"
The private doctor hesitated, then nodded, "You’re starting to develop diabetic foot, if you don’t control it, amputation will be necessary."
Amputation?!
Armando’s pupils constricted upon hearing these words, knowing that El ncho was illiterate; he couldn’t even read!
Not to ntion explain the clear dangers, he would even drink over 1000 milliliters of Pepsi daily after diagnosis, hmm...
Now he panics truly as the wound on his foot isn’t healing!
But as a trusted lieutenant, Armando knew the private doctor was about to face disaster!
Sure enough!
El ncho cald down, then suddenly burst into rage, grabbed the private doctor’s head, slamd it on the table, and smashed it with the ashtray there!
One hit!
Two hits!
Flesh torn and bloodied!
Are you the War God of ashtrays too?
In a few hits, the private doctor was out of commission, face bloody, lying on the ground.
El ncho, proud as ever, couldn’t accept the prospect of amputation, he needed to vent...
He threw the bloodied ashtray on the floor, sat on the sofa, and gulped down the Pepsi from the table!
"Boss, the Northern Army is coming, we… should retreat, they’re less than a kiloter away," Armando whispered.
Actually, they were supposed to have run already, El ncho was great at escaping; even when the Yanks found the "Father of Flight," they couldn’t find him.
But now the main reason they hadn’t run...
A wound suddenly appeared on his leg, then it beca infected!
Really...
Comparable to Guzman’s cerebral hemorrhage.
"Have soone carry !" El ncho ordered in a low voice, but Armando still heard the panic in his tone.
One kiloter, just a passing mont, if really caught, Northern Victor’s cruelty, he wouldn’t sympathize with himself!
Victor had stated more than once on TV, he wanted to dismber El ncho and give him an acid bath!
To scrape his body with hundreds of cuts, then soak him in sulfuric acid!
Victor, that son of a bitch, I RNM!
Could El ncho not panic?
Proud as he may be, he also cherished his life, his money was not yet spent.
Armando called for a stretcher to carry him to the car, but hearing the gunshots getting closer, a drug trafficker ran over in a panic, "Boss, the front entrance is blocked by the Northern Army!"
"Run to the back door!"
A group hurriedly fled from the back...
Only two or three vehicles, the rest left to their fate!
But shortly after they escaped, they encountered an ambush!
A rocket directly hit the lead vehicle, Boom!!
Like a crow flying off an airplane!
Transford into a fireball rolling down from the roadside, the drug traffickers inside didn’t even have ti to scream.
Squeak squeak squeak!!
The mournful sound of brakes.
Sitting at the back, El ncho hit his head on the front seat, head throbbing. If it had been before, he would have cursed loudly, even killed his subordinates.
But now...
"Retreat! Reverse!! Quickly reverse!!"
He finally panicked.
Ludwig Becker was no fool; he had served in the 1st Regint before being transferred to command the 16th Regint, experienced and veteran.
Surviving old soldiers from the "Tijuana Siege" and "El Ceyo Steel Mill" knew their stuff, and as they attacked, he feared the other side would escape, instructing his n to flank!
Once the convoy ca out, he fired a rocket.
The driver was sweating, shifted gear, and started reversing, but the vehicle behind was too slow, didn’t react in ti, and crashed into them!
The back of the hood flew off.
Northern Army soldiers ambushing from the roadside charged forward!
"Capture El ncho alive!"
A bodyguard just exited the vehicle when he was riddled with bullets!
Seeing the situation turned dire, Jose Armando, from the rear vehicle, opened the car door and rolled down the roadside, not even bothering about his boss.
He thought of saving his own life first.
Joking aside, if the boss died, couldn’t they just replace him?
But El ncho’s cousin, Jalisco’s new head of intelligence, Alejandro Luis Cervantes, wasn’t so lucky.
He, a hot-blooded man, wouldn’t surrender; he ard himself and moved to counterattack!
And then...
Bang!!!
He was blown to pieces by soone wielding a rocket launcher at close range!
El ncho, hiding in the vehicle, watched this scene in utter shock.
He was scared!
The Northern Army was too damn savage.
Startled, he shouted desperately outside, "I surrender! I surrender! I am El ncho!!"
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