Chapter 184 Close the door and release Casare!

"Farke! Farke! Nichols, come with me."

John Boccoli cursed, patted the shoulder of the team member next to him, took out the magazine from his pocket while running, knocked it lightly, the empty magazine fell out, and the new one was directly inserted.

It works smoothly.

At first glance, he was an old gangster.

After rushing out of the room, I heard footsteps on the steps. I raised my head and stood up. The drug dealer next to me pulled out an MK II defensive grenade and threw it down.

jump…

The dust flew up and was a little pungent.

"Get out of the way! John!" A voice came from behind Boccoli. He turned aside and saw a teammate running out from behind, cursing, "Damn police! Bastard! Son of a bitch!"

He also held an M34 white phosphorus grenade in his hand!

He pulled the lead and threw it downwards, but his arms were obviously stretched out too long. The policeman leaning against the wall below didn't care what you were.

If you fucking take off your pants and stick your cow out, I'll give you a shot.

Chug tug tug…

With one burst of fire, the bullet penetrated the drug dealer's arm. He screamed out in pain, covered his hand and hurriedly retreated. The M34 white phosphorus grenade in his hand fell on the stairs and burned instantly.

The police officer who was leaning against the wall and stuck in the corner was swallowed up in one go.

"Ahhhh!!!"

The police officer screamed and rushed out of the fire. He had already lost the gun in his hand and ran towards the nearest teammates, with fire everywhere on his lips.

Remember: If you encounter someone on fire, don’t get too close. They will hug you out of fear. This is why many law enforcement agencies have steel forks, which are to put them under your armpits and hold them down.

But he only ran two or three steps, and then he fell to the ground and rolled violently!

to be honest…

There is nothing the teammates next to you can do!

On the battlefield, it's not like in the TV series. To be honest, the only one you can control is yourself.

What you pray for... is that the so-called cannonballs will not hit you!

Save people?

That will only kill more people.

Slowly, the police officer lying on the ground stopped wailing and twitching.

"Blow them up!"

A police sergeant put on an HK69A1-40mm grenade launcher and stepped on the steps with his waist bent. The hot feeling could still be felt on the leather boots.

Grenade launcher, do you need to aim?

It is a single-soldier support weapon and a close-range killer. If you are not careful, you can even kill yourself.

Bang...bang! !

A grenade passed by, and John Bocoli, who was a little further away, was hit by the shock wave in the stomach, and the fragments scratched his eyes. He screamed in pain, and the drug dealer who threw the incendiary bomb was not very lucky.

Everyone stood within the killing radius.

For a moment, just for a moment, he didn't even scream. I have to say that he was a tough guy, but he was a bit fragmented.

And the other Nichols, who was from an unknown country, was blown into the house, and his left calf was completely missing!

Seizing the opportunity, the police officer rushed up and hit Nichols on the ground with a headshot.

John Boccoli covered his chest. When he saw this scene, his eyes shrank. When he was blown away just now, the MP5 fell off. The police officer over there also turned around and subconsciously pulled the trigger of the gun in his hand, but when he heard The sound of short positions hanging up.

But this frightened John Bocauli, his buttocks subconsciously clenched, and the hairs on his scalp stood up from his tailbone. When he heard the sound of the empty warehouse hanging up, his face was startled, but obviously, God stood on On your own side!

"Ah!!" He roared and rushed over. The police officer was also a tough guy and yelled angrily. Two men with a height of 185+ started fighting in the most primitive way!

John Boccoli was also a murderer. He bit the policeman's neck like a wild beast.

The police officer was also on the attack. This man was prone to adrenaline surges in desperate situations. During the fight, he touched the grenade on his waist. He didn't know where he got the courage to pull the fuse and roared. , "Victor! Long live!"

John Boccoli looked at this scene in horror and hit the other person in the face hard, but the police officer just hugged him tightly.

Boom!

The grenade exploded between the two men.

When his teammates caught up with him, half of the police officer's face had been blown away, and his bones could be seen. John Boccoli was even worse, with his intestines protruding.

"Paulie!" his teammates shouted. He rushed up and fired a shotgun at Bocauli's head, blowing it up to prevent him from resurrecting. Then he looked at his teammates and found that he was no longer breathing.

"Clear!!"

The sergeant leading the team looked at this scene and took a deep breath, but his calmness and good military qualities made him wave his hand and said that he would lead people to search in other rooms. As soon as he walked to the window, there was a whistling sound in his ears, and he raised his hand and said: When he first looked at it, his pupils shrank, "Get down!!"

On a roof 400 meters away, there are seven or eight small RB 97-type 150mm medium mortars from the Second World War!

I don’t know how these stupid drug dealers got here.

"put!!"

The mortar blasted towards the small building controlled by the police.

Bounce, bounce, bounce!

The walls were shaking so damn much.

"Mark the location! Mark the location!" The Sheriff got up from the ground and spat out all the sand in his mouth, his head still buzzing and trembling.

Anyone who has been bombed knows that the head... really feels like paste, a headache, a little nausea, a slight concussion, and sometimes even when someone stands in front of you and talks to you, you can't hear what they are saying. Birdsong.

The police officer who got up quickly squatted in the triangular area by the window, took out his night vision goggles and started scanning.

Victor has not yet had the luxury of equipping everyone in the frontline troops with night vision goggles.

This point...has to explode.

Moreover, this kind of high-precision weapon is easily damaged. Even Americans will have to wait a millennium to be able to do this.

"Found them!"

The armored vehicle outside raised its muzzle, aimed at the target, and fired one round at a time, blowing up the drug dealer chick on the plane!

Katyusha?

It was taken away a long time ago and there are no shells, so why keep it?

Zolf Sherman came down from the front line and hurriedly got into a command vehicle. Inside, Kennedy looked tired and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Time is up!"

Kennedy looked at his watch and said, "Substitute and continue!"

They planned to attack fiercely, and there were actually a lot of police officers. They didn't need to disperse, they just charged from one direction. There were too many people and they couldn't spread out, so they became live targets, so they rushed forward one battalion after another.

Those who come down from above rest.

But don’t let the drug dealers rest!

Look who is so fucking tough.

This kind of fatigue warfare is common in many places, especially modern warfare.

The adjutant next to him responded and hurriedly went to make arrangements.

"You should take a break, too." Zolf Sherman patted Kennedy on the shoulder and said.

"56 hours, 1100 meters of advancement! How can I sleep?"

The anti-drug troops have been spending more than 60 hours at the steel plant. They can be seen in Hermosillo, the capital of Sonora state, but... TMD can't get past this steel plant!

Zolf Sherman understands the pressure.

Drug traffickers also have various types of artillery, as if this steel plant is like an arsenal.

"I'm fine." Kennedy waved his hand and looked at the map with a frown. He finally got the internal structure diagram of the steel plant. "Their tunnels are the most annoying. If we can block their vents, we will be able to get there." It’s time to blow some air into it.”

"Or water them hard, don't pour too much, and then turn on the electricity and find a way to get them up from the ground. We don't have to worry at all on the ground."

Zolf Sherman instinctively thought how much water would be needed?

Did the Corona River be dug up?

What vent, can you find it? Who knows where the drug dealers are opening their mouths?

While the two were discussing, the door of the command car was opened, and the adjutant stood outside, "Boss, the director is here!"

An H-46 painted with the Mexican flag hovered down. This helicopter looks a bit like a bus and is nicknamed "Sea Knight"!

This is Victor's travel vehicle, also known as the King.

He refused the support from Kennedy below, and Victor jumped down vigorously and said with a smile, "I haven't reached the stage where I need help when I walk."

After he finished speaking, he looked at the two of them up and down, sighed, and patted his shoulders.

"Long time no see. I'm glad you two have lost weight."

Kennedy and Zolf Sherman both lowered their heads in regret.

"Director, if you give me some more time at this steel plant, I will definitely take it down!" The former raised his head and said. Of course he knew what the boss was doing, but he just thought he was "incompetent."

"How can we get it? Don't fight a reckless man's war, just rely on desperate efforts? Do you want all my police officers to sacrifice themselves to fill the bullets of drug dealers? This is not necessary and unnecessary!"

Casare glanced at Hernandez, an old reporter from the Mexican News Agency next to him, bumped him with his elbow, and motioned for him to turn on the machine.

This is good material.

"Mr. Victor gave a lecture before the battle, and the police officers vowed to take down the Hermosillo Steel Plant!" 》

Hernandez understood immediately, turned on the video recorder and started working.

"Don't worry, the troops coming to support tomorrow will bring thermobaric bombs. Don't they like to hide? Then we will use thermobaric bombs to bomb them."

Thermobaric bomb!

Kennedy and Zolf Sherman looked at each other with some shock in their eyes.

The veteran reporter Hernandez raised his eyebrows when he heard this word. He is a war reporter and his military knowledge is richer than many people. The first thermobaric weapon in the world should be PRO-ASHMEL developed by Mao Xiong. "Shmika rocket".

The Cloud Explosive Bomb is its predecessor.

Ordinary people have never even heard of it, because the Americans haven't even established it yet.

He suddenly felt someone looking at him, and turned around to see Casare staring at him.

"Don't worry, I can do the technical editing!" Hernandez lip-synced.

Fatty Ka nodded with satisfaction.

As a war correspondent, if you live a long time, you will indeed have a sharp eye.

"Boss, there are a lot of reporters outside this steel plant. If this is photographed by them and spread out..." Zolf Sherman hesitated a little.

reporter?

Victor pondered for a moment and looked at Casare.

When in doubt, close the door and release the card, Fatty!

"Boss, will you smash their lenses?"

"Hey, we are regular police officers and not bandits. How can we say such things? It's too rude."

Kasare's eyes twitched, and the boss felt that these words were not enough.

I hope reporters can shut up!

He swallowed, "Boss... kill them all, okay?"

When the wind blew, everyone nearby looked at Hernandez.

The old man was so frightened that his hands shook, but he forced a smile.

"What are you thinking about? Find some people to put on a show, pretend to be drug dealers, tie them up, and then...a few days later, our anti-drug police went to rescue them. As for the photography tools, we threw them all to the Mexican News Agency." Victor He laughed angrily when he heard the other party's idea.

Reporter, do you think it’s so easy to kill?

At least…

The headgear must be worn in three layers.

Although they don't have guns, the nickname "The Uncrowned King" is still quite scary.

Everyone should know about Rupert Murdoch, but in fact, there is Gusinski, nicknamed "Goose Spreader", who used public opinion to the extreme. He personally supported a "person" at the beginning.

But he also died miserably.

If Victor had killed so many media people, he would either be a wanted criminal or a death row prisoner. With Mexico's current national strength, it would not be able to protect him.

Many things can be done secretly.

If you are aboveboard, you are causing trouble for yourself.