Sonny was fine. His machine gun was fine. Most of the Bravo Team members were unharmed. But someone wasn't so lucky.
"Rasso! Rasso's been hit!"
Colonel Martinez scrambled on all fours to Jason's side, flipping Rasso onto his back. Sonny, who had been closest to the explosion, had only been knocked down by the blast wave. Ironically, Rasso, the furthest from the explosion, had caught a piece of shrapnel in his abdomen, leaving a bloody wound. He groaned in pain, writhing on the ground.
It was one disaster after another. The RPG blast seemed to have stirred up a hornet's nest. Gunmen were now popping out from every corner, shouting wildly before being quickly gunned down by the SEALs' sharp reflexes.
Others had taken positions on balconies over a hundred meters away, spraying the area with random fire from an assortment of automatic weapons. Though their aim was atrocious, the sporadic fire created a suppressive effect. Stray bullets, after all, were often the most dangerous.
"Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat…" Sonny's MK46 Mod 1 light machine gun came alive once more, its rhythmic bursts giving the team some breathing room.
A few muffled thumps followed as two cars attempting to ram through the armored Mercedes were swiftly targeted by "pirate guns." Their fuel tanks ignited, spilling gasoline that burst into flames. The blazing fire lit up the previously dim street like it was daytime.
"Command, this is Bravo 3. Where the hell is the QRF?!" Sonny yelled over the gunfire while firing short bursts at the buildings flanking them.
"Command received, Bravo 3. The QRF is en route. Hold your position." This time, the voice over the comms wasn't Major Blackburn's, but logistics officer Lisa Davis.
"We can't stay here any longer. We need a route out. Rasso needs medical attention. We can't let him die—he's our only lead to finding Doza," Colonel Martinez shouted, his hands covered in blood as he helped the medic, Trent, apply an emergency tourniquet to Rasso.
"How's Rasso doing?" Jason called out.
"Hard to say," Trent replied, stuffing a wad of hemostatic gauze into the gaping wound on Rasso's abdomen, making him scream in agony. "He might have internal bleeding. I need a place where I can perform emergency surgery."
"Bravo 3, suppress those balconies! We're pulling back to the east. We can't stay on the street—they'll keep coming," Jason ordered loudly.
The cartel's ambush had been shockingly well-prepared: armored cars, machine gun pickups, and even RPGs. They had completely disrupted the SEALs' extraction plan. The brazenness of fighting so recklessly in an urban area was unexpected.
However, the SEALs had sprung the trap prematurely, which caught the cartel off guard as well. Not only had they captured Rasso alive, but the enemy's encirclement hadn't fully closed.
The two cars that had been destroyed earlier had barely been moving, likely loaded with heavy materials intended to block the SEALs' escape routes.
Jack and Clay each pulled a smoke grenade from their belts and lobbed them onto the street. Thick plumes of smoke billowed up, obscuring the enemy's view. Jason and Ray Perry kicked down the door of a roadside fast-food restaurant, with Martinez and Trent hauling Rasso inside. The rest of the team followed in an orderly retreat, covering each other in classic bounding overwatch formation.
Brock opened the rear hatch of the first SUV and began distributing backpacks loaded with ammunition and supplies. Each team member grabbed one as they passed by. These supplies would be crucial for holding out until reinforcements arrived.
Unfortunately, the loss of the second SUV meant they had lost nearly a quarter of their supplies, despite recovering a few extra backpacks before the vehicle was destroyed.
"Go! Go!" Brock yelled after handing out the last backpack. He emptied his magazine into the street, then sprinted toward the restaurant. By the entrance, Sonny had already set up his machine gun again and unleashed another long burst to cover Brock's retreat.
"I'm the last one!" Sonny shouted as he emptied his second 200-round drum magazine. As he ran past Jack, he yelled a warning.
But luck finally caught up with him. A steel-core round ricocheted off a nearby concrete wall, grazing his left shoulder and cutting a deep gash.
"Argh!" Sonny cried out in pain, but he kept his footing, dashing into the restaurant and taking cover behind a concrete wall.
Jack lobbed another smoke grenade to cover their retreat, diving into the building just as bullets riddled the restaurant's glass windows, shattering them into pieces.
The staccato roar of Sonny's machine gun resumed, distinct among the silenced HK417 rifles carried by the rest of the team.
"Hey, is everyone okay?" Jason asked as he took Sonny's position to let him use a med kit on his shoulder.
"What? Oh, yeah, still in one piece," Clay replied, pulling the pin on another smoke grenade and tossing it toward the street. The thick smoke temporarily obscured the restaurant's street-facing side.
"We need to move now!" Jack said, scanning the area nervously. They needed to break contact immediately—another RPG could wipe them all out in one blast.
"Follow me!" Jason led the way toward the restaurant's back door. Command had been trying to chart them a safe escape route, avoiding main roads and steering clear of points where cartel reinforcements were gathering. Finally, they had a plan.
Jason and Clay acted as the point team. Jack noticed that Martinez, who had been helping Trent carry Rasso, was starting to falter. Without hesitation, Jack took Rasso from them, hoisting him over his shoulder. Rasso screamed in pain as the shift in position pressed against his abdominal wound, but Jack's firm grip stopped the bleeding.
It wasn't worth tying up two people just to move Rasso when close-quarters combat could break out at any moment.
The team quickly moved through narrow alleyways, their formation spread out for security. The sound of gunfire behind them became less frequent, eventually fading into the distance. A wave of relief swept over the group—they had successfully broken contact, at least for now.
"Command, inform the QRF we're now five blocks east of our original position," Jason reported over the comms.
"We see you. The QRF encountered resistance en route, but it's nothing serious. However, their arrival will be delayed. Continue east-southeast for two more blocks—there's a church you can use as cover," Lisa Davis responded. It seemed that even Command was operating at full capacity.
Jack realized he had underestimated Doza. The man clearly understood the importance of ambush tactics and delaying reinforcements. Still, the cartel fighters they'd encountered so far were poorly trained. Their real goal was likely just to slow down the SEALs' QRF rather than outright defeat them. After all, taking on a half-battalion of regular troops near Mexico City was a losing proposition.
The Bravo Team maintained a tactical formation as they moved, remaining vigilant. After a few minutes, a small, pointed-roof church came into view.
The white church stood in stark contrast to the dilapidated neighborhood around it. Its low, decorative stone wall—barely over a meter high—provided little practical defense. However, in this country where nearly 90% of the population identified as Catholic, even the most chaotic regions saw little interference with religious sanctuaries.
"Move in!" Jason ordered. The team prepared to use the church as a temporary refuge.
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Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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