Chiapas, located in southern Mexico, is home to an Indigenous population that makes up about one-third of the state's people.
Across the Americas, there are roughly 40 million Indigenous individuals—or those who identify as Indigenous. Of that number, about 10 million live in Mexico, and over 1 million are concentrated in Chiapas.
Compared to their counterparts in the U.S. and Canada, the Indigenous people of Chiapas live in extreme poverty, constantly struggling to survive. Most of the land is controlled by a few wealthy landowners—or more accurately, by cartel bosses. These lands are filled with cash crops like coca and coffee, and they also serve as gateways for smuggling drugs and migrants from Guatemala and Colombia into Mexico and, ultimately, the United States.
Closing the folder he had been reading, Jack let out a long sigh. Chiapas wasn't just a Mexican state—it was practically an independent narco-kingdom, with multiple powerful factions fighting for control. Among them were the infamous Sinaloa Cartel, Doza's "CJNG" (Jalisco New Generation Cartel), and remnants of the Indigenous-led Zapatista National Liberation Army.
"Doza hasn't surrendered—he's retreated to his stronghold," Sonny declared after flipping through the same dossier. Leaning back in his chair, he stretched out and sighed. "I'd bet a dollar he's lounging in some countryside villa, sipping tequila, without a care in the world."
"Look on the bright side," Jack replied, his tone calm but pointed. "Forcing him into retreat is no small feat. This is likely his final move. While it's true Doza has connections everywhere, he's still a far cry from the reach and influence of someone like 'El Chapo' Guzmán.
Even within CJNG, there are probably people eager to see him fail. Add to that, Mexico's government isn't completely rotten—there are still patriots like Colonel Martinez and Lieutenant Lopez. They're proof that not everyone's given up."
Resting his elbows on the table, Jack intertwined his fingers under his chin. His posture, combined with his confident tone, gave him an almost comical resemblance to Commander Gendo Ikari from Neon Genesis Evangelion—all he was missing were glasses reflecting white light.
All eyes turned to Jack, their expectations clearly written on their faces.
"If we think carefully," Jack continued, "we've still got a few cards to play. Let's put them all on the table." He turned his gaze toward Mandy Ellis.
The room grew quiet, the gravity of the situation settling over everyone. It wasn't a problem Jack could solve alone; they needed collective ingenuity and teamwork to navigate this seemingly hopeless scenario. But Jack didn't mind being the one to light the spark.
"Doza managed to use Rita Alfaro's family to coerce her into betraying us. What if we turned the tables? Now that Doza has surfaced and 'surrendered,' Rita, as a CISEN agent, should be able to find out where he's holed up, right?"
The cold-blooded CIA agent Mandy Ellis folded her arms, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. After a moment, she nodded. "That wouldn't be difficult. I could arrange for an extraction team to quietly relocate her sister and her two nieces to Guantanamo Bay. I'm sure that'll persuade her to cooperate."
"Great," Jack said, his expression showing faint approval. "Once we have solid intel on Doza's location, we can develop a concrete plan. In the meantime, I suggest Major Blackburn pay a visit to the military hospital to have a chat with Martinez.
We need to know if there are still people in Mexico's higher ranks willing to support us—or at least look the other way. If we can get even a slight extension on this 24-hour deadline, we'll have more time to plan and prepare. And afterward, it might give everyone involved a way to save face."
"That's not a bad idea," Blackburn said with a faint smile. "There are still folks in Mexico's Ministry of Defense who support us. Martinez and I might be able to convince them to give us tacit approval—or at least to turn a blind eye for a little longer."
But his smile quickly faded. "That said, a C-17 Globemaster transport plane is already en route to pick us up. Whether we succeed or fail, this is going to be our last operation here."
"Perfect timing," interjected Lisa Davis, the logistics officer, with an uncharacteristic smile. "I was wondering what we'd do once we got kicked out of here. When the C-17 arrives, we can just set up the operations center onboard—like we've done before."
Jason clapped his hands, rising from his seat. "Alright. Given that we haven't had proper rest after two straight engagements, I say we all get some sleep. Let Blackburn and the intel team work their magic while we recharge. Hopefully, when we wake up, there'll be good news."
Good news came—but not much of it.
First, the higher-ups back home hadn't revoked authorization for the mission. In fact, someone in the White House had reportedly made some "wild" suggestions, including sending in stealth bombers to obliterate Doza's stronghold.
Of course, neither rationality nor politics allowed for such drastic action, and JSOC (Joint Special Operations Command) chose to ignore the idea altogether.
However, with the Mexican military no longer cooperating, the support Bravo Team could expect was severely limited. If they insisted on going after Doza, the mission would have to be a covert infiltration.
This meant they could still rely on drone and satellite surveillance for intel, but reinforcements were out of the question. If captured, the SEALs could only pray they ended up in the hands of corrupt local police rather than cartel enforcers or rebel militias.
The former, despite their corruption, wouldn't dare harm an American soldier—at least not without consequences. The latter, on the other hand, would likely display their bodies publicly as a grisly warning.
Fortunately, the CIA managed to secure a civilian helicopter for emergency extraction, should the worst occur.
As for Rita Alfaro, after a heated tantrum filled with curses and insults, she begrudgingly agreed to cooperate. Under Mandy Ellis's watchful eye, she made a few calls and provided Doza's current location.
"Doza's 'prison'—or rather, his beachfront villa—is located over 500 miles south of Mexico City," Lisa Davis explained, pointing to a high-resolution satellite map. "There are no public roads leading to it, but the cartel built a private highway. It's heavily guarded, with checkpoints all along the way."
"Give me 60 soldiers, and I can take that place with ease," Blackburn muttered, though the statement was more out of frustration than practicality. His reluctance about the mission was evident.
"We don't have 60 soldiers," Jason countered, rolling his eyes. "We have seven."
"Eight," Lopez corrected, standing with a resolute expression. "Including me."
Blackburn turned to him, frowning. "This operation has been officially called off. If you're caught…"
"I'll tell them it was my decision alone, unrelated to the Marines," Lopez interrupted. His tone was firm, unwavering. "This is unfinished business for Colonel Martinez, and for me.
If we don't stop Doza, my family and I will always live in his shadow."
"Don't make it sound like Martinez has passed away," Jack interjected with a chuckle, lightening the mood. "The major and I just visited him at the hospital. The doctors say his recovery is going well."
"And thanks to his insistence," Jack continued, "Mexico's Ministry of Defense has given us tacit approval for this mission—at least until their president issues a final ultimatum. For now, they're pretending to know nothing."
Jason gestured for Lopez to sit down, then addressed the room. "Alright, here's the deal: we have eight people. We'll need another route in. Any ideas?"
Sonny hesitated, clearly having something in mind but reluctant to speak. Instead, he looked at Clay, who stepped forward and pointed to a spot on the coastline.
"This area—it's a mangrove swamp, right?"
Lisa confirmed with a nod.
"Then maybe it's time we went back to basics," Clay suggested.
"Damn it, Clay!" Sonny groaned. "Mexico's huge, and you still managed to find a way to make us swim."
"It's just a short swim," Clay teased. "No sharks will eat you, Sonny."
As a Texan cowboy turned SEAL, Sonny had an inexplicable fear of big-toothed sea creatures—especially sharks—despite being a proficient swimmer.
"That's actually a great idea," Jason said, studying the map. "The mangroves provide excellent cover for a stealth approach. It's a natural barrier—Doza won't expect anyone to come through there."
"We'll need a small, inconspicuous boat—a yacht or a fishing vessel—to get us close to the coast," he continued. "From there, we can dive in and swim to shore."
"Get your gear ready," Jack added, grinning. "The hike inland will take at least six hours. Oh, and Sonny, you might want to worry more about jaguars than sharks."
"Jaguars? You're saying there are jaguars in those mangroves?" Sonny's voice pitched higher in alarm.
"Of course," Jack said with a mischievous grin. "They're like jungle sharks, but with sharper teeth."
"Can I back out now?" Sonny asked, playing along with exaggerated horror, drawing a round of chuckles and breaking
the tension in the room.
------------------
Enjoying the story? Support the author and get early access to chapters by joining my Patre@n!
Find me at: patre@n*com/Mutter
You can read each novel for $5 or get them all for just $15.
Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 256)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 336)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
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)
[+50 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]
[+5 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]