The barracks were shockingly rudimentary—two large rooms sectioned into cramped compartments of less than two square meters each, separated by wire fencing and plastic sheeting. Each compartment held only a simple cot.
"This makes our tents in Jalalabad seem downright luxurious," Sonny Quinn remarked, peering into one of the tiny cubicles, his tone laced with sarcasm.
"Nothing to complain about," joked Ray Perry with a mischievous grin. "I just took a look around. The Mexican Marines aren't living any better. Of course, if the ladies don't mind, you can try staying with them. Their quarters are a bit nicer."
"Is he serious about no booze?" Brock Reynolds asked as his ever-faithful companion, Cerberus, pranced around with a large candle he had somehow found, wagging his tail as if it were a new toy.
"Rules are good," Sonny said, casting a sly glance at their medic, Trent Sawyer's backpack. "But I'm guessing you didn't forget your 'emergency disinfectant,' did you?"
"Should last us a day or two," Trent replied, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and waving it at the group.
Jack joined in, tossing Sonny an old military canteen he had received from Michael Weston. "Mix it with water before drinking."
Sonny opened it, sniffed, and nearly recoiled from the 96-proof alcohol. "Whoa, Jack, you must be an angel sent from heaven to save us."
"I'll let you know when I grow wings," Jack quipped as he set his pack down in the compartment closest to the door, figuring it would be better to stay in a well-ventilated spot among the sweaty soldiers.
"Let's go. Meeting time." Jason strode through the hallway, knocking firmly on the door.
Twenty minutes later, the group gathered in a makeshift command center. A long table cobbled together from various pieces stood at the center, with everyone seated around it, each equipped with a rugged military laptop.
"So, even though this guy's face is plastered all over the streets, nobody knows where Doza is hiding?" Jason said, still struggling to process the chaos they had already witnessed.
"Our last intel on Doza is from nine months ago," Colonel Martinez explained. "He was visiting his girlfriend in Jalisco. But just as we were about to act, someone tipped him off, and he vanished."
Lieutenant Lopez, who had been driving earlier, spoke in a disturbingly calm tone. "The informant we planted to monitor Doza was skinned alive and hung from a freeway overpass when they found him. Every time we identify a weak point in his network, Doza sniffs it out and eliminates it."
The SEALs exchanged uneasy looks. They were used to dealing with terrorists, but this was something else entirely—gruesome even by their standards. Encountering such a ruthless opponent just across the border was unsettling.
Jason scratched his head and gestured to the two intelligence officers present. "So, do we have any actionable leads?"
"We do," said Mandy Ellis from the CIA, typing on her keyboard. She brought up a video clip showing the abuse of a DEA agent and displayed a screenshot on everyone's laptops.
"Remember this guy with the tattoo-covered head? Carlos Gonzalez. He's Doza's enforcer and PR man. We believe targeting him might give us something to work with."
Jason turned to Jack, skepticism evident in his expression. "He seems like a small fish. Are we sure he'll lead us to Doza?"
As SEALs, they preferred straightforward missions—locate the target, eliminate them, and go home. This murky operation, where they had to gather clues and piece things together, felt more like detective work. Jack, being an FBI agent, seemed better suited for this.
"This is a long-term operation, as we were briefed before deploying. Don't expect instant results," Jack said. "If dismantling a drug cartel this size were easy, Colonel Martinez and his Marines would've done it already."
Jack understood the SEALs' disdain for the Mexicans, but he also knew that on this treacherous battlefield, the Mexican Marines might be the only organized force still fighting the cartels. In a joint operation six months ago, Jack had pointed out that both Brazil and Mexico had anti-drug vanguards relatively free of cartel influence—Brazil's BOPE and Mexico's Marines. These forces often had deep personal vendettas against the cartels, making them reliable allies.
"Remember what Gonzalez said in the video's opening? 'Only Andres Doza can protect you from foreign invaders.' Doza has crafted an image of himself as a defender of Mexico, much like the Guadalajara Cartel founders, who are still seen as heroes resisting federal intervention despite being imprisoned."
Jack continued, "Carlos Gonzalez may seem insignificant, but without Doza's approval, he wouldn't dare treat a DEA agent like that. There must be a direct link between them."
"Exactly," Rita Alfaro chimed in. "If we capture Gonzalez in Tepuro, his testimony could give us insight into the CJNG cartel's inner workings."
"What's Tepuro?" Jason asked. Identifying the target was the intelligence officers' job, but planning the mission was the SEALs' responsibility.
The Mexicans glanced at Lieutenant Lopez, whose face darkened. "A slum controlled by the cartel," he said, his voice tinged with sorrow. "It's where I was born and raised. Doza's men are everywhere there."
Colonel Martinez placed a reassuring hand on Lopez's shoulder before explaining, "That's why it's impossible to distinguish friend from foe. Lopez plans to station surveillance teams around the area and send informants inside to wait for Gonzalez to appear."
The SEALs exchanged skeptical looks. Such a passive plan didn't sit well with their aggressive style.
Hotheaded Sonny Quinn couldn't hold back. "And then, when someone leaks that we're looking for him, he'll disappear like Doza?"
Martinez, naturally siding with his men, countered, "Last year, I lost five men during a raid there. Lopez's plan is sound. We'll have eyes on Gonzalez's hideout, and you'll wait outside this powder keg."
"That's not happening," Jason said firmly. "We'll go in and drag him out. They started this war, so we'll decide when it ends. The White House sent us here to take action, not sit around and wait."
His tone brooked no argument.
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Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 256)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 336)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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