Working as a police officer in Mexico

Pablo was still talking eloquently to the journalists.

He had already mentioned the North American Development Association's four five-year plans, and even told the journalists, "I don't know how long the Rockefeller Family has been around, but I can tell you, the next wealth explosion lies in drugs!"

"We will establish our own country!"

A country?

The journalists were really dumbstruck this time!

What are you joking about? You want to play this game in Latin America, the American's backyard?

This will drag the whole of Colombia down to hell with you!

The United States at this time still boasted itself as the "embodiment of justice", during the period when the Russian Bear was barely alive until around the Millennium, there were still moral bottom lines. If you really did this, your ashes would be scattered tomorrow!

But the timing Pablo and his people chose was also good, they coincided with the preparations for the Gulf War, giving them no time to deal with you.

So let the DEA handle it themselves.

Pablo liked the surprised looks on the journalists' faces; it satisfied his vanity.

He coughed and was about to continue plotting his grand ambitions when he heard a series of explosions…

It sounded like artillery!

Ochoa ran over quickly, whispering two sentences in his ear, and Pablo's face immediately became solemn.

"Colombian Special Forces?"

"Americans?"

Ochoa shook his head, "Not very clear, but they're coming for us."

Whoosh~

Pablo heard a sound cutting through the air, looked up, and saw a missile rush into the fourth floor of the new justice building.

"Watch out!"

Ochoa hurried to protect him.

Boom!!!

The entire floor of the fourth story instantly burst into flames, glass and debris fell from above, and everyone screamed and hurried away in fright!

Pablo was also in disarray, grabbing Ochoa by the collar, "Kill them!"

"I understand!!" the latter's ears were buzzing.

…

Jonathan Pannier tossed aside the RPO-A style 93mm rocket launcher.

Disposable, used and thrown away, the main appeal was convenience and speed.

Naturally, this was provided by Victor.

Even the DEA wasn't extravagant enough for this.

Individual airburst bomb!

You think Jonathan Pannier didn't want to start firing from kilometers away? This damn thing only had an effective range of 200-800 meters!

The lethal radius was even smaller.

Once the vehicle entered visual range, he got out and fired a shot at the building, a warning shot to scare the tiger.

The HEAT team members quickly got out of the car; Parsel Keat crouched down, holding the M240B machine gun, firing at the armed militants gathering at the building's entrance.

The recoil made his facial muscles tremble.

"Maysca, give them a nutrient shot!" He shouted at his teammates, looking at the gathering drug traffickers.

A black man with thick lips pulled out a hand grenade upon hearing this and stuffed it into the M203 launcher, firing at the entrance!

Buckshot grenades!

More damaging in dense crowds.

The sprayed steel balls brought all the drug traffickers down; they lay on the ground clutching their wounds and screaming in agony, but there were some tough ones who understood that if they let these people rush in, then it would all be over.

They pulled hand grenades from their waists.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

This fuse was just right above them, so when they pulled hard, it came off automatically. They threw it with all the energy they could muster.

Seeing an opening in the gunfire, Parsel Keat stood up with the machine gun and charged.

He just saw a hand grenade hit his body; his pupils shrank, and his mouth opened in a roar, who knew what he was yelling?

Instinctively, he kicked the grenade away with his MHW tropical combat boots.

The hand grenade flew back, exploding in mid-air!

Pop~

Suddenly feeling like he'd been struck hard on the head, Parsel Keat collapsed to the ground. Just as Jonathan Pannier thought he was dead, Keat moved his hand and quickly hid behind a sedan.

He took off the American Enhanced Combat Helmet (ECH) and saw a fragment embedded in it.

Touching it, it was still a bit hot.

"God bless! God bless!"

Parsel Keat was covered in cold sweat, hurriedly making the sign of the cross.

Really... he was lucky to be alive!

As everyone knows, a grenade exploding mid-air has the most power. He was unscathed, wasn't that luck then?

On the battlefield, it's 30% skill and 70% luck. Your day-to-day training is to enhance your combat qualifications, so you can exert 70% effort on the field and overcome the enemy, but luck... is more metaphysical.

The Delta Force even started worshipping the "Buddha" in the barracks, and had their fortunes told in Chinatown.

The things a makeshift troupe could do, they'd done them all.

Parsel Keat quickly put the helmet back on, lay on the ground, and took aim at the drug traffickers scattered by the entrance.

Jonathan Pannier led men charging through the entrance of the justice building, catching sight of Pablo and others running inside.

"The guy in the white suit is the target; take him out!"

Jonathan Pannier shouted, firing a shot.

Frightened, Ochoa hurriedly pressed down on Pablo's head and grabbed the communication device, "What about the machine gun upstairs? Fire quickly, the helicopter! Arrange for the sir to leave first."

"Boss, there are still journalists outside."

"What journalists? They're all enemies!"

The machine gunner on the roof, upon receiving the order, fired below.

The journalists, already like headless flies, were shot to pieces; the drug traffickers also pulled out their grenade launchers, aiming below, with a blast.

High-explosive bombs...

Bursting right in the middle!

A HEAT member couldn't dodge in time, or rather was just unlucky, as a grenade exploded right at his feet.