Medellin.
The infantry fighting vehicle crushed the rubble of the slum, its tracks churning up mud mixed with blood.
A six-man Mexico combat team advanced in a wedge formation into the half-collapsed shanty area, their gun muzzles sweeping cautiously over the twisted sheets of metal and concrete debris.
"Sector B2 cleared."
Sergeant Carnizares suddenly raised his fist, his tactical boot pressing down on an unusual bump in the ground. He stopped, signaled there was a problem through hand gestures, and two soldiers pried open a manhole cover, releasing a stench mixed with disinfectant fumes.
"Underground structure, stay alert."
The flashlight beams sliced through the thick air, illuminating the concrete tunnel walls riddled with bullet holes. After advancing thirty meters, gunfire suddenly erupted at a corner!
"Contact!" Carnizares shouted!
The team members behind instantly retaliated, their powerful firepower tearing the five gunmen hiding behind sandbags into clouds of blood.
