Chapter 184 Close the Door and Release Casare!

"Fuck! Fuck! Nichols, follow me."

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

He did it smoothly.

At first glance, he was an old gangster.

He rushed out of the room and heard footsteps on the stairs. He stood up and fired a MK II defensive grenade. The drug dealer next to him pulled out a MK II defensive grenade and threw it down.

Boom...

The dust splashed, a little pungent.

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

He was holding an M34 white phosphorus grenade in his hand!

He pulled the fuse and threw it down, but his arm was obviously too long, and the police officer leaning against the wall below didn't care who you were.

You took off your pants and stuck your bull out, you have to be shot.

Bang, bang, bang...

A burst of fire, the bullet penetrated the drug dealer's arm, he screamed in pain, covered his hand and retreated quickly, and the m34 white phosphorus grenade in his hand fell on the stairs and instantly burned.

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

"Ahhh!!!"

The police officer screamed and rushed out of the fire, the gun in his hand had been thrown away, and he ran towards the nearest teammate, with fire all over his mouth.

Please remember: if you encounter someone on fire, don't get too close, they will hug you in fear, which is why many law enforcement agencies have steel forks, which are to fork your armpits and hold them down.

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

To be honest...

The teammates next to him had no way out!

On the battlefield, it's not like in the TV series. To be honest, you can only take care of yourself.

You pray... only the so-called shells won't 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 the HK69A1-40mm grenade launcher and crouched on the steps. He could still feel the burning heat on his leather boots.

Grenade launcher, do you need to aim?

Individual support weapon, close-range killer, if you are not careful, you can kill yourself.

Bang... bang! !

A grenade went over, and John Pocoli, who was a little further away, was hit in the stomach by the shock wave, and the fragments passed through his eyes, making him scream in pain, and the drug dealer who threw the incendiary bomb was not lucky.

People stood within the killing diameter.

Just one, just one, he didn't scream, I have to say that he is a tough guy, but he is a little fragmented.

And another Nichols, who didn't know which country he was from, was blown into the house, and his left calf was directly gone!

Seizing this gap, the police rushed up and fired a burst of bullets at Nichols on the ground, directly shooting him in the head.

John Pocoli covered his chest and saw this scene, his eyes shrank. When he was blown away just now, his MP5 fell. The police officer turned around and pulled the trigger of the gun in his hand subconsciously, but heard the sound of the empty chamber hanging.

But this scared John Pocoli so much that his buttocks were subconsciously clamped, and the hair on his scalp from the tailbone stood up. Hearing the empty chamber hanging sound, his face was stunned, but obviously, God was on his side!

"Ah!!" He roared and rushed over. The police officer was also a tough guy. He shouted angrily. The two men with a height of more than 185 began the most primitive fight!

John Pocoli was also a fierce man. He bit the police officer's neck like a beast.

The police officer was also excited. This person was easily overwhelmed by adrenaline in desperate situations. During the fight, he touched the grenade on his waist. He didn't know where he got the courage from, but he pulled the fuse and shouted, "Victor! Long live!"

John Pocoli looked at this scene in horror and hit the other person's face hard, but the police officer just held him tightly.

Bang!

The grenade exploded between the two.

When the teammates behind caught up, half of the police officer's face had been blown off, and the bones could be seen, and John Pocoli was even worse, with his intestines exposed.

"Paulie!" The teammate shouted, rushed up and first fired a shotgun at Pocoli's head, blowing it up directly to prevent him from resurrecting on the spot, and then looked at his teammates, who were no longer breathing.

"Clear!"

The leading police chief looked at this scene and took a deep breath, but his calmness and good military qualities made him wave his hand and say that he would lead people to search in other rooms. Just as he walked to the window, he heard a whistling sound in his ears. He looked up and his pupils shrank, "Lie down!"

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

I don't know how these stupid drug dealers carried them up.

"Fire!"

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

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

The wall was shaking from the explosion.

"Mark the location! Mark the location!" The police chief got up from the ground and spit out all the sand in his mouth, his head still buzzing and shaking.

Everyone who has been bombed knows that this head... is really like paste, very headache, a little nauseous, mild concussion, and sometimes even when someone stands in front of you and talks to you, you can't hear what he is saying.

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 easy to damage. Even the Yankees 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 frowned at the map. He finally obtained 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 bring 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 know how to edit technically!" 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 act as drug dealers, tie them up, and then... after a few days, our anti-drug police will rescue them. As for the photography equipment, they will all be thrown to the Mexican news agency." Victor was so angry that he laughed when he heard the other party's idea.

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

At least...

Wear three layers of hoods.

Although they don't have guns, the nickname of the uncrowned king is still quite scary.

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

But he also died miserably.

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

Many things can be done secretly.

Openly, that would be asking for trouble.

...