London, England, inside 10 Downing Street, the atmosphere brimmed with complacency.
"Well done, gentlemen!" The Prime Minister raised his champagne glass to his aides, "Victor, that rude man, finally caved under pressure. Medellin will become our stage to showcase the British standards, letting the world see what true humanitarian intervention and order restoration are all about!"
"It's also a good time for us to flex our muscles once again in the Latin American region. The United States has fallen, and the European Union and Western World need a new leader. The Sun Never Sets Empire is, after all, the Sun Never Sets! For our Empire, cheers!"
The group cheered enthusiastically.
But they forgot a taboo.
You can't pop champagne midway!
The British media were even more jubilant.
The Times had a headline: "The Takeover of Justice: British Army to Illuminate Medellin's Darkness."
The Guardian commented: "From War Crimes to Redemption: Britain's Moment of Responsibility." On the BBC rolling news, commentators confidently stated that the arrival of British forces would "end the cycle of violence" and bring long-awaited rule of law and human dignity to the ravaged Medellin."
To highlight this historical moment and moral high ground.
The British Ministry of Defense and the BBC planned a grand "entry ceremony," which they would broadcast live.
A vanguard of the 16th Air Assault Brigade, equipped to the teeth and impeccably dressed, rode armored personnel carriers and light tactical vehicles, escorted by several armed helicopters, slowly advancing along Medellin's main thoroughfare, Liberator Avenue.
Prominent Union Jack and peace-symbol olive branch emblems hung on the vehicle bodies.
The BBC live broadcast team was on the lead command vehicle, the cameras trained on the streets.
Chief reporter Sarah Jones held a microphone to the camera: "Ladies and gentlemen, you're witnessing a historic turning point. Medellin, once shrouded in violence and fear, is now greeting the dawn of hope. The resolute faces of British soldiers represent the international community's steadfast commitment to peace and human rights! Look, there are citizens on the streets waving at us! Though few, this is undoubtedly the first ray of light in the darkness."
"They've waited so long for British civilization!"
The camera panned over, indeed showing a few bold citizens peering out from dilapidated windows or alley corners, their expressions mixed with apathy, curiosity, and a subtle vigilance and hatred.
The convoy continued forward, heading towards the city center square.
Once the Mexican frontline command post, it was now planned to symbolize the British Army's temporary command center and the Safe Zone.
Sarah Jones continued enthusiastically extolling how the British forces would establish safe channels, distribute humanitarian supplies, identify and resettle those laying down arms.
Everything seemed orderly.
Just then!
"Bang!"
A sharp sound like shattering glass suddenly tore through the contrived peace of the live broadcast prelude!
The live camera jolted violently, abruptly cutting off Sarah Jones's voice.
Soon after, machine-gun-like bursts of dense gunfire erupted from all directions!
Bullets striking the thick steel plates of armored cars sounded a piercing ding, while others whizzed towards the lightly armored vehicles and infantry, whose protection was relatively thin!
"RPG!!!" A shrill, distorted cry in English exploded across the communication channel!
A rocket, trailing flames, suddenly shot out from a dark sewer outlet, headed straight for the lead "FV107 Scimitar" armored reconnaissance vehicle!
Boom!!!
A violent explosion occurred right before the live camera!
The "Scimitar" was instantly consumed by flames and dense smoke; the vehicle body was blasted upwards, parts scattering wide!
The heat wave even caused the live camera to instantaneously overexpose, turning into a blinding whiteness!
"God! We've been attacked! Repeat! We've been fiercely attacked!!" Sarah Jones's terrified scream finally broke through her throat, piercing the live broadcast signal, and perforating the eardrums of all British viewers and world opinion!
The live footage veered, spun, and the camera swept over scenes of hell:
The previously "resolute" British soldiers were now in complete disarray, some pinned down by the sudden firepower, unable to raise their heads, huddled behind vehicles or barriers.
Some were hit, fell, rolling and wailing in agony, their blood quickly spreading across the dirty pavement.
A transport truck, its fuel tank strafed by machine-gun fire, was ablaze, sending thick smoke skyward.
The survivors panicked, desperately seeking cover, firing wildly at possible attackers hidden in windows, ruins, or alleys, the sound of gunfire, explosions, screams, orders, and curses deafening.
Several figures, nimble as ghosts, wearing civilian clothes or ragged militant gear, used sewer outlets, blasted wall gaps, or even burning vehicles as cover, using assault rifles, machine guns, and even old shotguns to furiously pour firepower on the chaotic British convoy. Their tactical movements were extremely adept, firing a few shots and immediately shifting positions, clearly local forces, intimately familiar with the city's terrain!
"Request air support! We're surrounded! Enemy numbers unknown! Firepower is fierce! Heavy weapons are present! Repeat! Request urgent aerial support!" The British Commander's shouts in the communication channel were filled with disbelief, panic, and despair.
The live footage ultimately froze on a horrifying close-up: a young British soldier, face bloodied, helmet blown off, gazed blankly at the camera, the backdrop of burning vehicles and chaotic battlefield—and in the next second, the signal was lost, the screen turning to blinding static.