The Drug Enforcement Administration's dispatch team in Colombia is quite large. In addition to nearly thirty operational team members, there are also more than a dozen logistics personnel, as well as police and intelligence personnel from Colombia.
They directly rented a six-story building on the outskirts of the city and turned it into an operational base. As for why they didn't choose a better place, the main reason was insufficient funds. The Drug Enforcement Administration was not as generous as the CIA, and even their operations were The ambassador must be notified first, unlike the CIA who can report it afterwards.
However, despite having no money, the agents still tried their best to make their operation base quite comfortable, and also hired local cooks to take care of the food.
Because there is no cover-up in daily activities, the nearby residents know what a lot of Americans are doing here. On weekdays, the children will also find ways to get some candies and other things from the workers who come and go here.
Therefore, it didn’t take much effort for Pablo’s killers to find this place. They even bribed the local police to make them pretend to be deaf and dumb about what was going to happen here. For this reason, Poison even visited the divisional police commander. He and the other party's wife had a friendly and in-depth exchange of words, and afterwards they even put a full two hundred thousand U.S. dollars in banknotes as breakup fees for the two of them getting to know each other.
At ten o'clock in the evening, after confirming that all Colombian personnel working at the Drug Enforcement Administration stronghold had left, Poison and more than 20 mercenaries immediately appeared in an alley not far from the building.
"They have renovated that building. The windows on the first and second floors have been sealed, and everything above the third floor has been reinforced, so the only way to break through is from the first floor!"
With the help of flashlights, Pablo's mercenaries and killers gathered together and carefully looked at the architectural drawings obtained by the poison. Although this thing was very secretive, for the Medellin Group, they really didn't have it in Colombia. Something less than.
The Colombian workers who renovated and renovated the American house only paid $5,000 and dumped everything out.
"The iron gate on the first floor is two-layered and bulletproof. They usually have a sentry guarding the door!"
"The second and third floors are their office areas, and the fourth, fifth and sixth floors are the rest areas!"
"How are they armed?"
"There are pistols and submachine guns!"
"That's enough!"
The leader of the killer was a Venezuelan. He had done a lot of bloody things in the country and couldn't stay any longer, so he traveled around South America. In order to make ends meet, he even lived in Chile for a while, where his talents were highly regarded by the military junta. He was appreciated and even killed more than a dozen left-wingers and received a large bounty.
After Pablo was determined to start an all-out war and started recruiting troops, he ran from Brazil to Colombia, successfully joined the Medellin Group, and relied on his ruthlessness to become a leader.
There are many leaders like him in the Medellin Group, but because they want to attack Americans, a considerable number of people have scruples. He is the only one who is money-oriented. Americans are nothing, as long as Pablo gives them money. Enough, he can even give up his parents!
The Venezuelan lit a cigar for himself, then took out the Uzi submachine gun in his arms and loaded it, and then showed a determined smile towards the poison.
"Just wait and see, none of those Americans can escape!"
Leading his men quietly downstairs, the Venezuelan first cut off the power and phone lines of the house, and then motioned his men to step forward and open the door.
The subordinate he brought was also a well-known lockpicking expert, and was a fugitive wanted in three bank robberies. He could easily open a safe, not to mention a bulletproof iron door.
Because it was already late at night, the Drug Enforcement Administration agents did not arrange for personnel to be stationed at the gate on the first floor. The only security measure was an alarm, which would be turned on at night and turned off in the morning.
After all, the young men in the Drug Enforcement Administration have to run around every day to follow and monitor, and they are already very tired. If they are arranged to stand guard at night, they will be reported for exploiting employees. When the Ministry of Internal Affairs intervenes, it is inevitable that there will be another round of chaos.
But the killers in Medellín cut off the power early and the alarm stopped.
At work, when the lockpicker opened both doors, the busy Americans above didn't even know that the enemy had entered.
Two killers with submachine guns walked in the front. They carefully walked along the narrow and steep long stairs towards the second floor. Both of them were ready to fire at any time.
But when they climbed up to the second floor, they found that it was deserted. There were only a dozen tables filled with information and walls covered with maps and photos. Several rooms on the second floor were equally messy, and there were even pictures on the tables. There was unfinished cold coffee and unfinished sandwiches.
The killers were relieved to see all the mess. Fortunately, no one was working overtime on the second floor, otherwise it would be bad to make a noise and wake up the guys upstairs!
But what caught the killers off guard was that just when they finished cleaning the second floor and started to touch the third floor, and immediately touched the stairwell of the third floor, the closed soundproof staircase door was suddenly opened, and there was a burst of sound. The noise also came out.
Then, the dim and wavering candlelight illuminated the killer's face as a person lifted him up.
"Huh? You guys?".z.
The person holding the candle was a Drug Enforcement Administration agent who couldn't sleep and was about to stay up late and work overtime. He looked at the people in the corridor and reacted instantly. Then he threw the candle at the killer closest to him, then turned around and ran towards the door. go.
"Someone..."
The agent had just shouted a few words of warning when the submachine gun in the hand of the killer whom he hit with a candle had already hit his body.
The bullets popped out of the gun, and the door at the stairway was riddled with holes in an instant.
"Up, up, up!"
As soon as the gunfire rang out, the killers knew that the operation had lost its confidentiality. Under the urging of the Venezuelans, the first few rushed into the door on the third floor without hesitation, passed over the dead bodies, and then began to fight with The Americans, who were still working on the third floor and were looking for guns, began to exchange fire.
In a close encounter, a semi-automatic pistol was no match for a submachine gun. However, within a few seconds, the four American agents still on the third floor fell to the ground.
After clearing the third floor as quickly as possible, the killers immediately headed for the fourth floor again, but as soon as they showed up at the stairs, crackling assault rifles hit them from above.
The American agents who were awakened by the gunshots didn't even bother to put on their clothes. They picked up their weapons and guarded the stairs.
