"My name is Andrés Doza, a businessman and a witness to the crimes of American aggression against our country. Here, within Mexico's borders, I have been hunted by U.S. soldiers.
I am not a perfect man, but neither am I the irredeemable villain they claim I am. These reckless Americans are the real criminals. I am willing to give up my freedom, but I cannot allow them to run rampant on our land.
That is why I stand here today, so that the truth can be known to our people. Long live the people of Mexico!"
It was now midday. Inside the operations center, the team watched in tense silence as Doza finished his grandstanding speech on live television. Shortly after, two uniformed Mexican police officers placed handcuffs on his wrists and escorted him into a police vehicle. The entire scene played out like a theatrical production.
The tension in the room was palpable. Everyone's fists were clenched tightly.
"You all know what this means, don't you?" Mandy Ellis finally broke the silence, her expression dark as she turned off the television.
"This is Doza's play to escape," she said coldly. "He's placed himself under the 'protection' of these corrupt Mexican police officers—just like the drug lords of the past. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if he's already arranged a luxurious private prison for himself."
Lieutenant Lopez's face darkened further, his expression a mixture of frustration and despair. His voice trembled with anger as he spoke.
"I thought we had a real chance this time. A chance to finally end this scourge. But maybe I was just fooling myself. This is always how it ends, isn't it?"
Mandy clicked her remote, projecting the headline from a Mexican news site onto the screen. It read "The Church Massacre" in bold letters. Beneath it were photos and videos, released by Doza's lawyers after his "arrest." The images were graphic and showed the aftermath of the firefight in the church.
"Their intent to manipulate public opinion couldn't be clearer," Mandy said, her tone laced with disgust.
Jack couldn't hold back his sarcasm. "So they're claiming all those people were innocent civilians killed by American soldiers? Didn't even bother removing the weapons from the bodies, huh?"
"That's more than enough," Mandy replied with a shrug. "All it takes is the fact that U.S. special forces were involved in street combat on Mexican soil. That alone is enough to spark public outrage."
"Yeah, sure. The same public that's perfectly fine with their loved ones being disemboweled or skinned alive by cartel thugs. But if a cartel member gets shot in the street, that's where they draw the line," Jack sneered.
"That's the reality of it," Major Blackburn interjected with a heavy sigh.
"What do you mean by that?" Jason asked, looking up at the major. His earlier dejection was replaced with suspicion.
"I mean the mission is over," Blackburn said grimly. "Orders from above. Bravo Team is to withdraw from Mexico within 24 hours."
The room fell silent for a moment, then erupted in anger.
"That's ridiculous!" Ray Perry snapped, his frustration boiling over. "This was supposed to be a joint operation between our governments! Mexico invited us to help them!"
"Yeah, well, the problem now is that the president of this country is the one telling us to leave," Blackburn shot back, his voice tinged with bitterness. "I don't need to explain to you how elections and public approval ratings work, do I? 'Foreign forces invading our soil' is an incredibly sensitive topic here."
Even Blackburn, the consummate professional, couldn't hide his frustration. As much as the U.S. prided itself on being a "beacon of democracy," there were things even they couldn't openly do, especially in a foreign country.
"So, what do we do?" Jason demanded. "Just let Doza pull off this charade of a surrender? I can already guess what's going to happen: the moment we leave, he'll be released without charges. And then he'll start settling scores.
He'll send his men after this guy—" Jason pointed at Lieutenant Lopez, standing in the corner, "—and his family. And don't forget Colonel Martinez, lying defenseless in the hospital. Oh, and let's not overlook the fact that he murdered a DEA agent. Wasn't that why we came here in the first place? Is that the outcome we're settling for, Major?
No. No way. After everything we've been through—after all the risks we've taken—we are not giving up now. We're going to take him down. We can't let our sacrifices be for nothing!"
Jason's impassioned plea was met with nods from the rest of Bravo Team, their resolve mirroring his own.
But Blackburn wasn't having it. "And what's your plan, Jason?" he snapped. "Go after Doza on your own? Without any official support, without military resources, without drones, and without the Quick Reaction Force on standby?
You'd be walking into a death trap. This is his turf. He controls the police, government officials, even parts of the population. He controls everything here."
Jason's stubbornness flared up again. "Yeah, that's exactly what I plan to do."
"Don't even think about it!" Blackburn roared, his voice echoing in the room. "You're a soldier, Jason. Following orders is your duty."
"Alright, alright, calm down, both of you!" Jack stepped in, placing himself between the two men. The tension between Jason and Blackburn was reaching a boiling point, and Jack didn't want it to escalate further.
In truth, Jack had no intention of simply packing up and going home. This wasn't just about accountability to his superiors. Jack wasn't the type to let someone like Doza make a mockery of him and walk away unscathed. That wasn't how his personal "narrative" worked.
"I'm not leaving," Jack declared firmly.
He'd spent his previous life as a disgruntled internet commentator, railing against incompetence and injustice. Now, standing in the boots of a U.S. operative, wielding real power, there was no way he was going to back down. If there was ever a time to embody the so-called "imperialistic arrogance" of the United States, this was it.
"Here's an idea," Jack suggested. "Why don't you guys leave, officially, while I stay behind? Give me a few days..."
He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone understood what he was implying.
Mandy Ellis sighed, her expression weary. "Ideally, we'd bring Doza back alive. If he gets assassinated, it could spark a diplomatic crisis that we're not prepared to handle."
"Don't we still have 24 hours?" Clay Spencer chimed in. "If Doza's location is known, why not just grab him? Disguise ourselves as federal police or Mexican Marines. If we can create a fait accompli, the bureaucrats can clean up the mess afterward."
"It's not that simple," Lopez interjected, hesitating as he chose his words carefully. "Doza turned himself in… in Chiapas. That region—how do I put this—is a powder keg. Think of it like the Balkans in Europe."
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