Chapter 1322: Chapter 641: Pretending to Be Sick Is the Best Way to Escape
Northern Colombia, inside a heavily guarded facility.
The atmosphere is wholly different from the chaos in London and the smoke of Medellin.
Around a wide conference table, Colombia’s former president Armando Benedetto, Mexican Minister of Defense, General Erich Manstein, and Brazilian Minister of Defense João Ribeiro sit together, with exquisite coffee cups and thick document drafts on the table, permeating a solemn yet harmonious atmosphere.
The satellite phone quiets down in the aide’s hand in the corner, with all irrelevant distractions blocked.
“Minister Ribeiro, thank you and the Brazilian government for demonstrating cooperation willingness at this critical moment.” President Benedetto’s voice is steady and forceful, carrying a sense of post-crisis relief and determination towards the future, “The framework of the Colombia-Brazil Security Alliance, I believe is very pragmatic, capturing the core of our common threat — transnational organized crime.”
Brazil’s Defense Minister, Ribeiro, is tall and sturdy, with a resolute face; he nods slightly: “President Benedetto, Brazil’s Amazon rainforest and long border lines are likewise channels and shelters for drug traffickers, causing us much harm, and Mexico’s achievements in combating drug trafficking organizations are widely recognized, their experience and strengths are worth learning from.”
He opens the document in front of him, “Specifically: First, Mexico will deploy a permanent composite brigade-level battle team, approximately 5,000 people, equipped with corresponding air and intelligence support forces, in key areas of Colombia, especially in strategic zones bordering Panama, Venezuela, and Brazil. Its core mission is to assist Colombian Government Forces in eradicating remaining armed drug traffickers, severing transnational trafficking routes, and providing a pivot point for subsequent ‘Colombia-Brazil Alliance’ actions.”
“Second,” Ribeiro continues, his finger moving over the clauses, “The stationed troops will directly participate and lead joint eradication actions targeting drug trafficking organizations threatening Brazil’s security, with operational intelligence shared in real-time by intelligence agencies from three countries, establishing a Joint Intelligence Analysis Center.”
“Third, also most concerning to Brazil, the Brazilian Federal Police Special Operations Forces (BOPE) and the Army Jungle Combat Unit hope Mexican army can provide anti-drug combat training, tactical advisory groups, and, as needed, conduct short-term, high-intensity joint special operation actions in high-threat areas within Brazil (such as Amazon border or Rio de Janeiro slums).”
“In exchange,” Minister Ribeiro lifts his head, “The Brazilian government will offer priority procurement rights to Mexico’s defense industry, particularly for orders involving armored vehicles (wheeled), short-range air defense systems, drones, and communications encryption equipment. Moreover, once the situation in Colombia stabilizes, Brazil will firmly support the legitimate government led by President Armando Benedetto in reconstruction and anti-drug efforts at United Nations and other international venues.”
These words struck a chord with the President of Colombia.
I have two big brothers supporting me, let’s see who the hell can say I’m guilty!
“Thank you very much, I also assure you, during my administration, Mexico and Brazil will forever be good friends of Colombia, I will absolutely not allow the Western World to interfere here, Latin America belongs to us Latin Americans!”
“Come, for our future, cheers!”
General Manstein and Minister Ribeiro also raise their glasses, the gentle clink of the three glasses reverberates indoors, symbolizing the formal launch of a strong military-political alliance between these three countries based on real interests and shared threats.
After the meeting ended, the three stand before a massive electronic map, with one corner of the screen showing a satellite hotspot map of the Medellin area, still swathed in glaring red.
“It’s truly a tragic farce.”
General Manstein gazes at the map section denoting intense combat areas, his brow furrowing tightly, “Deploying elite air assault forces, arrayed in parade formation, along the main thoroughfare most familiar to the enemy, with no effective battlefield obstruction or thorough clearance, swaggering right in, while carrying live global broadcasts… This utterly violates every prohibition emphasized on the first page of the ‘Infantry Combat Manual’, did the London staff literally apply colonial rebellion suppression experience to 21st-century high-intensity urban warfare? Arrogance and ignorance is the deadliest combination on the battlefield.”
He turns to Benedetto, “Mr. President, the chaos in Medellin precisely proves the correctness of our initial decisions, dealing with these drug traffickers only requires thunderous measures, any relaxation is unacceptable!”
President Benedetto takes a deep breath and nods vigorously: “Thank you, General, thank you for Mexico’s firm support. Colombia will not forget true friends.”
Medellin.
Inside an apartment building bore withered holes near “Liberator Avenue”.
Time seems frozen in blood and smoke.
More than 30 hours have passed since the world-shocking ambush.
Air permeated with a nauseating mix of strong smoke, burnt smell, and the pervasive, increasingly intensified sweet and foul odor of decomposing bodies.
On the street, the once “peace olive branch” flags were long torn down, turning into muddy and blood-stained scraps.
Everywhere within sight are remnants: twisted, burning armored shell, scattered weapon parts, shattered bricks and rubble, and also… haphazardly sprawled, varied postured corpses.
Some wear British Army uniforms, more wear mottled clothing as armed militants.
Flies swarm densely, emitting a maddening buzzing sound.