Chapter 943: Chapter 493: Expand and Strengthen, Create Glory Again!
Outside of xico City, there is a military camp in the canyon.
Very mysterious…
Most people don’t know about it.
But from the outside, you can often hear gunshots from here; once you get close, you’re discovered and dispersed by a sentry. As a result, rumors have spread that this place houses a mysterious unit capable of anything.
They say they even eat human hearts and often drag drug traffickers in to practice shooting.
Rumors grow with each telling, leading to various versions of the “story” erging.
In reality, this is the camp of the 23rd Squadron of the Air Force Special Forces.
The Army 141 Special Forces’ infiltration ability and behind-the-lines decapitation operations made it famous, gaining renown in the world of military, which made Air Force General Zolf Sherman very envious.
So, in August 1991, the Air Force Special Forces were ford.
The 23rd Squadron!
Nickna: “North Arican Divine Sword!”
The instructors were poached from Alpha…
When the Soviet Union dissolved, xico took the opportunity to recruit deeply, bringing over many from Alpha and Signal Flag.
While absorbing them internally, the Air Force attracted many capable individuals with its substantial funds.
How does that saying go?
Army is mundane, Navy is sophisticated, Air Force is outstanding and flies!
The Navy changes ships, the Air Force changes planes, the Army… changes clothes.
Having money solves problems…
From August to now in May, almost a year, it’s ti to take them out for practice.
The Military Departnt of the Air Force sent a call to the camp, directly issuing Victor’s order.
The entire camp imdiately raised the alarm…
Dun dun dun dun~
Urgent and chaotic footsteps echoed in the stairwell as soldiers swiftly donned their combat uniforms and strapped on weapons, sliding gracefully and swiftly down a vertical pole in the middle of the corridor.
Commander of the 23rd Squadron, Colonel Jas Water, wore a black mask with only his eyes showing, and a helt equipped with communications. He had a large fra, nearly 1.9 ters tall, making him appear very intimidating.
He looked at the assembled troops below.
The entire squadron, 212 officers, the lowest rank being lieutenant, showing how much effort the Air Force put into forming this unit, offering benefits and treatnt unlike any other.
“Comrades!”
With a snap, everyone’s legs ca together with a crisp sound.
“The ti has co when our country and people need us!”
“Headquarters orders us to raid Cancun and establish a Safe Zone in the Ambassador District. Despite the disparity in numbers, we must fulfill our oath.”
“Tobie Ojczyzno! (For the holand!)” shouted the people below.
Jas Water’s expression was cold, “Move out!”
The 212 troops will board three Hercules aircraft for a parachute landing over Cancun. Since xico is over 1,000 km away, helicopters are impractical.
And to quickly open the situation, in coordination with the 300 n of the 141, nearly 600 elite soldiers will execute the mission. While success is not guaranteed, the chances are relatively high.
War never has a 100% success rate.
Only one-percent are heroes!
Boom boom boom~
The engines of the Hercules roared, deafening.
The ground crews saluted the planes.
Watching the heroes embark on the battlefield.
…
Cancun…
The city was engulfed in smoke and flas…
Even a 200-year-old church was reduced to ashes.
In the “Molod Palanka District,” known as the “Journalist District,” many international news dia have established offices here.
BBC, The Guardian, CNN, Columbia Broadcasting System, and others.
During Arturo Desena’s administration, because this area controlled “public opinion,” he deployed soldiers here to guard against… disruptions.
But now, with Cancun in chaos, the frontline results are poor, the leaders fled, and the restless soldiers have turned into “beasts.”
They had long been eyeing so female journalists with big hips, and upon entering, began to commit assaults!
The cries of despair and anguish filled the air here.
But simultaneously…
So risked their lives to livestream what was happening.
Two Brazilian male journalists ran quickly to find a safe place and called their boss.
But who knew their Japanese superior would order them to livestream…
“To hell with you, I want to live! You’re ordering us to die!” the caraman refused.
The other was also very resistant.
“One hundred thousand dollars, Brin, Maximilian, if you two just broadcast it, I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars reward!” The Japanese superior’s eyes were red; what he wanted now was ratings.
Hearing this, the two Brazilian journalists breathed a bit erratically, looked at each other, sowhat conflicted.
“Two hundred thousand bonus!”
“No problem,” the Japanese superior agreed.
After all, in the end, whether or not to give them still needs approval?
It’s easy to find an excuse to pay just a few thousand dollars.
Japanese people never have credibility.
“Rest assured, I’ll be in contact with the Brazilian governnt to get you out of there, but right now you need to broadcast the live scene, I won’t lie to you, hurry up.”
Under the boss’s urging and driven by money, they pointed the cara at the window, delivering a direct broadcast of the scenes below.
Money always has the power to surpass fear.
Far away at the TV station in Sao Paulo, Brazil, the news was originally being broadcast, but the public suddenly found the image changed…
Everywhere was raging fire, accompanied by gunfire, you could even see fully ard gunn shooting at buildings.
And a voiceover appropriately chid in, “Drug traffickers and gangs in Cancun, xico, are massacring local residents!”
“Ah, help, help!”
Two ard militants dragged a white woman out of a building, pulling her hair. She scread while blood pooled beneath her.
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