Capítulo 1306: Chapter 634: Let Your Nonsense Fly Away with Your Cover
Casare’s voice carried a hint of uncontrollable excitement, “Boss, Medellin! Our people have broken into Medellin!”
Victor’s steps halted abruptly, the weariness in his eyes instantly replaced by a sharp gleam. He turned around and stared at Casare, “Explain clearly!”
“Carlos Leder, one of the three leaders of Medellin,” Casare spoke rapidly, “He’s scared! Pablo’s bodyguard leader, John Jairo Villarquez, never intended to truly surrender. He plans to orchestrate a massacre during the surrender ceremony, wiping out our people along with the traitors he has a grudge against, and the Colombian Government!”
“At that time, they could turn the tables!”
Victor squinted his eyes, “Naive!”
“Carlos chickened out. He doesn’t want to go crazy with Villarquez, nor does he want to die! He secretly contacted our frontline command. He provided detailed intelligence on John Jairo Villarquez’s security arrangements, including the locations of concealed heavy firepower, the sniper positions, and the passage to his own safe house… The only condition: spare his life and his core family, and guarantee no prosecution!”
Victor raised an eyebrow, “Tell him, deal, let his people lead the way.”
After all, keeping one’s word is a matter of morality, not law.
Morality, he always lacked.
Colombia. Medellin.
Carlos’s confidant, a pale but fiercely-eyed individual, led a team of elite members of Mexico’s 141st Special Battalion, quietly infiltrating the heart of Medellin like ghosts through the passage provided by Carlos.
Their target was Carlos’s “safe house” located on the top floor of an apparently ordinary apartment building.
Carlos sat in the living room of the safe house, the expensive leather sofa feeling like a bed of needles. He forced himself to remain calm, dialing Villarquez’s encrypted line, his voice trying hard to maintain its usual tone, “John, it’s me, there’s a bit of a situation, we need to talk face to face, it’s urgent, come to my place, the safe house, just you alone, something doesn’t feel right.”
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end, then Villarquez’s deep voice sounded, emotionless, “Just me? Carlos.”
“I’m sure! Hurry up!” Carlos’s voice carried a barely noticeable tremor.
Time ticked by, each second feeling like torture in a frying pan.
Finally, the electronic sound of unlocking came from the heavy bulletproof door of the safe house.
The door slowly opened, and the tall figure of John Jairo Villarquez appeared at the entrance. He didn’t walk in immediately, his hawk-like eyes scanning the living room sharply.
Carlos sat stiffly on the sofa, his gaze flickering; the air was filled with a deliberately forced calmness and a hint of… unfamiliar sweat?
Too clean, not even a bodyguard?
Villarquez immediately sensed something wrong, his right hand seemingly casually hanging at his side, but only inches away from his quick-draw holster.
“Carlos,” Villarquez’s voice was urgent with a frown, “What do you want to talk about? At a time like this?”
Carlos suddenly stood up, trying to force a smile, “John, listen to me, I think your plan isn’t quite right?”
“What do you mean?” Villarquez interrupted him, his gaze as sharp as a knife, instantly locking on the odd black shoe shadow slipping from the narrow gap under the closed bedroom door in the living room side.
“Move!!”
No one knew who shouted.
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!
The gunshots erupted almost the moment the roar sounded!
Not from the bedroom, but from the other side of the living room, behind the bar!
The gunman Carlos arranged had been exposed prematurely! Bullets ripped through the air, hitting the spot Villarquez had just been standing, shattering an expensive decorative vase instantly.
Villarquez rolled to the side while drawing his gun, his movements agile.
A bullet grazed his shoulder, sending a trail of blood spray, as his large-caliber handgun thundered in retaliation.
“Carlos! You traitor!” Villarquez roared like a beast as he rolled to find cover, as bullets thudded against the heavy wooden cabinet he hid behind, splinters flying.
Carlos, terrified, scrambled towards the bedroom, where he had planned “Plan B” and where the members of the 141st Special Battalion were stationed.
“Stop him!” The bedroom door was violently kicked open, and several members of the 141st Special Battalion, dressed in urban combat uniforms and their faces smeared with camouflage, pounced out like tigers, their assault rifles spewing deadly fire, instantly suppressing the area where Villarquez hid.
A rain of bullets poured down, instantly covering the walls of the living room with bullet holes, and the expensive furniture riddled with holes, fragments flying.
Villarquez was pinned down by the fierce firepower, unable to raise his head.
A member of the 141st Special Battalion attempted to flank from the side.
“Ah—!”
A tragic scream, the member attempting to flank was accurately shot in the thigh by Villarquez, tumbling to the ground.
In the chaos, Villarquez saw Carlos shrinking in terror at the corridor corner leading to the bedroom.
Fury instantly consumed all his reason.
He sprang out from behind cover, exposing half of his body, completely ignoring the whizzing bullets, his gun barrel fixedly pointed at Carlos!
“Fuck you!! Why!” Villarquez’s voice was filled with furious disappointment and murderous intent as he pulled the trigger!
“Bang!” As the gunshot sounded, a member of the 141st Special Battalion beside Carlos suddenly tackled him, the bullet grazing Carlos’s scalp, blowing a large hole in the wall.