Chapter 1321: Chapter 640: The British Mess It Up Again
Look, this is a double standard.
Now it’s their own turn, and they don’t care about civilians anymore.
Tsk tsk tsk…
Old Buddha of England…
Meanwhile, thousands of kilometers away in Mexico City, the atmosphere was completely different.
In the Presidential Palace, although official restraint was maintained, an undeniable sense of ease and even a hint of schadenfreude permeated privately, while in the city’s bars and radio stations, it was an entirely different scene.
“Breaking news! Big news! The gentlemen in London hit a bloody iron plate in Medellin!” A magnetic male voice announced on a popular evening radio program, with the background music being a reworked version of a British military song with a clearly mocking tone.
“The grand live broadcast of the BBC has turned into a global ‘casualty show’! How about we dedicate a song to the brave British warriors fighting heroically in the sewers with the rats far away in Colombia?”
The radio then played an out-of-tune, cheerful Mexican street-style rendition of “The Grenadiers March”:
“Grenadiers, bravely march into the hell of Medellin, welcoming you!
The rats in the sewers are smiling, RPGs salute you with fireworks!
How does the champagne taste? Not as wonderful as gunpowder!
Hang in there, John Bull, don’t let the Sun Never Sets become a big laughing stock! Lalalala~”
The bar erupted with laughter and whistles.
The TV screens repeatedly played the chaotic and bloody scenes from the BBC broadcast before it was cut off, with the host’s deliberately serious yet unmistakably mocking commentary: “It seems the British standards have faced severe localization challenges in Medellin, and the traffickers’ welcoming ceremony obviously caught the London gentlemen off guard.”
Social media was flooded with sharp satire and memes from Mexican netizens, juxtaposing the embarrassing scenes of British soldiers with the previously high-profile media propaganda of “order restoration”, with captions such as: “Humanitarian intervention in progress”, “The correct way to light up the dark?”, “The new highlight moment of the Sun Never Sets Empire!”.
While London was in turmoil and Mexico was dripping with sarcasm, a dramatic turn of events occurred on the southern front of the Colombian battlefield!
The Cali Cartel, which had been shrinking its defense line and suffering heavy losses under the continuous blows of the Allies, capturing this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity with keen insight.
“The British have fallen! Exterminate the Allies on the southern line!” The Cali frontline commander was almost roaring as he issued the order.
The final reserves, like the last strike of a dying poison snake, launched a sudden attack while the southern Allied forces were still in shock from the sudden incident in Medellin and the temporary communication chaos!
No longer cowering in defense, they used familiar terrain and the momentary relaxation of the Allies to launch a fierce counterattack.
Caught off guard, the Allied southern forces, especially the Colombian Government Forces, were plunged into chaos, with carefully constructed positions being breached at multiple points, supply lines attacked, and command posts being shelled! Within just a few hours, the Allies on the southern line paid a severe price, with large previously hard-won areas lost, and the entire front line on the brink of collapse, rendering months of progress nearly in vain!
“It’s over! The southern line has collapsed!” The Allies were filled with desperate wails, this sudden double blow (the Medellin fiasco + southern line retreat) completely shattering the previous optimism of “victory in sight”.
This bloody reality, like a basin of ice water, was harshly poured over the heads of those in Colombia who still held a sliver of hope, even covertly expected the British to solve the Victor and drug lord problem for them.
They looked at the war report, their hands trembling.
The “sewer rats” in Medellin, who dared to ambush even the regular British Army and caused such heavy losses, were far more terrifying and lawless than they had imagined!
Even the British couldn’t cover it!
Then who can? Their previous calculations now seemed so naive and dangerous.
A deep-seated fear replaced all political calculations.
And in the northern part of Colombia, in a facility “guarded” by Victor’s elite forces, sat the impeached former President of Colombia, Armando Benedetto, quietly in a chair.
There was a television in the room, the screen also displaying the news of the Medellin tragedy and the southern line collapse. His adjutant held a constantly vibrating satellite phone, its screen showing numerous missed calls from Bogota, from London, and even from Berlin.
The adjutant whispered to inquire: “Mr. President, there’s another urgent call from London, and also from Bogota…”
Armando didn’t lift an eyelid, “I don’t have that much time; I now need to discuss the ‘Goba’ garrison alliance with General Erich Manstein of Mexico and the Defense Minister of Brazil, let those clowns… go to hell!”
There was a bittersweet satisfaction in his heart.
A group of blind opposition, betting on the wrong horse, deserved it!
He was also waiting to settle accounts with them.
…