"Fuck!" Alvin York pushed Alves to the corner of the wall, slicing open his uniform lining with a dagger, revealing the plastic explosives wrapped inside, "Looks like you were ready to die together?"
Alves sneered, biting down on his fake tooth, as cyanide poison dripped from the corner of his mouth, "Mexican bastard... you'll never..." Before he could finish, his pupils suddenly dilated, and his body slumped to the ground.
Alvin York kicked the corpse aside and grabbed the walkie-talkie, roaring, "We need..."
The communication was suddenly jammed, leaving only the harsh sound of static. Santos pointed out the window abruptly, "General! Look over there!"
In the distance, thick black smoke rose from the slums, and the sound of gunfire was as frequent as popping corn.
